


If I Told You What I Was

by coolasdicks



Series: Who We Are [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Violence, Werewolf!AU, mentions of past relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1955748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolasdicks/pseuds/coolasdicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Werewolf AU but not really. Michael gets caught alone in the woods by a pack of five guys who didn’t plan on liking the mouthy runt, but did anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Told You What I Was

**Author's Note:**

> it’s been a while~ anyway, yep, this is my next project that i’m completely obsessed with. don’t be surprised if it’s the only thing i ever talk about again. there will be more of this verse i love it so much
> 
> Hasty sidenote that these two Imagine Dragon songs were a big inspiration:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-W40iW2MRs  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhSA9H9Iaqw

Something had hit Michael’s face about twelve paces back and his lip wasn’t healing.

He suspected it was a tree branch, if the lingering taste of sodden wood and ripe leaves was any indication. The blood was quickly becoming an issue, filling his mouth and dribbling down his chin, but he was putting every single drop of concentration into sprinting full speed. Something as menial as reaching up to wipe it away could slow him down _just_ enough for the fucking bloodhounds riding his ass to take him down. So he settled for shaking his head like a true dog to disperse the liquid dripping from his chin.

A dog. That was a fairly accurate comparison. They were _all_ dogs; the blood hounds were after a runt from a nearby pack. A normal pack member wouldn’t still have this damn lip injury, and a _competent_ pack member would be able to go more than four miles without tiring.

 _Enough of this stupid dog metaphor. His life didn’t suck_ that _much._

He wasn’t as fast as them and they were gaining fast, but Michael shredded through the bush and branches as if he still had the chance to escape. If he didn’t know better, they were toying with him. His pack – _More like acquaintances,_ Michael thought bitterly – had left the town hours before he’d even been aware of an enemy presence. Another strike for being a shitty pack member. His inability to sense normal things like social interaction cues and the scent of a compatible bond had sent him another four rungs down on the ladder before he’d even had the chance to step up.

Something ripped through the air behind him, the bark flying off trees and leaves immediately stewing up a small whirlwind.

_God, I’m going to be flayed like a fish, do wolves like fish?_

Making a sharp turn, Michael knew he’d confused his opposition. They thundered after him, but at a slower pace, allowing Michael to make another sharp turn and catch one of them head-on. He wasn’t a straggler, as they’d all been fairly close together, but it shocked the man enough to stop short.

Michael didn’t get a very good look at him – blond hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders – before he slammed into him, the sharp of his elbow digging deep into the man’s diaphragm.

The blond was sent flying, all the way through two thick tree trunks. Michael scrambled out of the way when they fell in his direction, nearly crushing him. The shockingly loud _crack_ of the tree’s collapsing was still ringing in his ears as he got to his feet, panting loudly and staring after the blond’s body. He couldn’t see where the man had landed.

“Holy shit!” a voice behind him shouted. Michael bolted at the first syllable. Had he been in a cartoon, there would have absolutely been fire in his footsteps.

“Wait!” a voice called after him. Michael heard other voices talking at a normal volume behind him, but he was hauling ass through the forest too fast to hear the words.

He cursed audibly. There was already a gaping hole in his stamina. He clenched his fists painfully tight as he ran in a random direction. He cringed at the sensation of fatigue tickling the edge of his mind.

That drug he’d shot up right before entering the woods was wearing off alarmingly fast.

Blood pooled in his mouth again. It wasn’t worth swallowing – he could already hear more of them behind him and gaining fast. Knowing it wouldn’t matter if he was leaving a trail or not, he spat a mouthful of foaming red liquid to the side without slowing.

“We’re not Spirits, we’re just trying to help you!” a clearly frustrated voice yelled into the whipping wind.

Michael’s only reply was to spit another gob of blood. He practically rolled his eyes. Like he was going to give these assholes the time of day. If they were like any other pack he’d encountered, they were just interested in ripping his throat out.

“We didn’t want to have to do this!” a different voice warned, one with a thick accent Michael couldn’t place. But instead of gaining on him, it sounded as if there were greater distance between them. Slowing down?

Michael sped up, stoutly ignoring the ache in his legs. His stomach was cramping horribly and his lungs burned, but the instinct to survive outweighed any physical discomfort. The forest ahead of him was an open path to freedom, if he just continued to the river and lost his scent trail –

He didn’t have time to skid to a stop. Before he could process the figure crouching in front of him, stance wide and waiting, he was crashing into what felt like a fucking _brick wall oh my god what is this guy made out of_ –

He bounced off, but not without cracking his head against the guy’s chin. Fucking _Christ._ Michael was not going to come away from this without a mile-long hospital bill.

Hands grabbed his biceps and lifted him off his feet. He kicked out frantically, but the guy simply leaned slightly to the side and chucked him as hard as he could into the air.

He pinwheeled frantically, but within seconds he was slamming back into the ground, sliding along the unforgiving forest floor.

His skin screamed in pain, the friction burns already a vivid, rash red. Luckily, it was only the skin of his right arm and shoulder. His hip ached from impacting with the packed dirt, but he was able to climb to his feet in seconds. The drug in his system was meant to give him superhuman strength and cheap healing. As he watched, the bright scarlet marks on his wrist began to fade back into the normal pale, freckled skin.

Looking up, Michael saw the man who’d thrown him staring at him in thought. His eyes were locked onto the healing process. Michael’s heart leapt. The man clearly thought he was a wolf as well.

Well, that could either work insanely in Michael’s favor, or it could mean his imminent death.

It was like an exciting game of truth or dare.

A cut on the man’s forehead had leaked two small beads of blood, but Michael could see the wound stitching itself together as he stared. He hesitated, transfixed. _If only my body could do that naturally._

He unconsciously licked at the cut on his lip. It was still bleeding slightly, too deep for the synthetic healing to completely fix. The man’s gray eyes narrowed and followed the movement of his tongue.

 _That’s creepy, I’m out,_ Michael thought to himself, breaking out of his reverie. He only had time to twitch, however, before two large hands planted themselves on the flat of his shoulders.

_This is it._

Michael tensed and prepared to be crunched into a small, rage-filled cube – like a trash compactor. His breath caught in his throat, heart stuttering in anticipation for the final blow.

“Wait!” the man in front of him shouted. He was up and crowding Michael’s space in milliseconds, moving faster than Michael ever could. His gray eyes were wide, face ghostly white.

“Ray, get his hands,” the man currently holding Michael in place barked roughly. Contrary to Michael’s heavy panting, the man wasn’t even breathing hard.

Michael twitched when a shorter man, with facial hair and glasses, carefully reached between the two stock-still bodies and gripped Michael’s right wrist.

He couldn’t help his instinctive reflex. God, he couldn’t just _stand_ there and let them chain him up like a prisoner and execute him – or worse, take him to the nearest Spirits. Twisting his hand to grip Ray’s in turn, he violently shrugged the hands off his shoulders and spun to swing the brunet into his buddy. ‘Ray’ slammed into the man who’d been holding him – a large guy, with an impressive beard – and the two stumbled slightly, nearly falling over. But, of course, Michael wasn’t strong enough to unbalance the fuckers.

He’d nearly forgotten there were five of them. A tall, stringy one with a scruffy face and big nose lunged, still in human form. So much finesse. If he’d had time, Michael would’ve snorted.

But the man was inches away and without those freaky supernatural healing powers, he would be killed instantly if those hands found their way around his windpipe.

So Michael ducked and as the big-nosed guy went over his head, he fucking punched as hard as he could upwards, the drug pumping more adrenaline than blood in his veins probably. His fist landed square on the guy’s stomach.

It was almost humorous, how the man went flying upwards. He exploded through the top of the trees and disappeared from sight, sailing into the sky with a loud, gargled scream.

Michael grinned, happy his ridiculous idea actually panned out, but his vision blurred slightly. His next breath was drawn in through a straw, loud and raspy even to his own ears. He was running on fumes.

When his sight cleared a few tense moments later, he was leaning against a tree trunk and four heads were facing the sky, as if waiting for their partner to come down. This time Michael couldn’t help but laugh. They all looked at him.

Oh, yeah. He was about to die, he was so fucked.

He turned on his heel, but the back of his shirt was snagged immediately and he was lifted off the forest floor by nothing more than one man’s strong arm.

So fucked.

He blindly reached behind him and tried to catch hold of something. At this range, anything he could try would most likely injure him, as well.

“Hold him at arm’s length for Christ’s fucking sake!” a voice shrieked. It cracked and was high-pitched, but Michael could hear the anger bubbling in the words.

Whoever was gripping Michael’s shirt did the next best thing and put him in the world’s tightest chokehold. Black spots bloomed in his vision.

He wasn’t a wolf anymore, not by his family’s standards – or anyone’s, really – but he still maintained a few animalistic qualities. One being the lovely, grotesque half-shift.

His canines lengthened just as he opened his mouth. He bit down as hard as he could on the man’s forearm, blood immediately filling his mouth as his teeth effortlessly broke skin. As a secondary instinct, his fingernails expanded and sharpened into possibly the weakest version of wolf claws.

He’s broken a claw getting out of bed before.

Yeah, not the best weapon he could’ve been blessed with. They didn’t do much aside from prick the skin of his own palms multiple times a week.

A loud howl of pain erupted in his ear and the grip on his shirt slackened. He tore free and landed roughly on his knees, crawling away with blood still coating his mouth. He wasn’t sure if it was his or the man’s, but he figured he didn’t want to know.

A growl seemed to ripple through the air. The hair on the back of Michael’s neck stood at attention at the sound, all of his instincts screaming at him to _get up and run you fucking moron, you’re about to be eaten_ –

He looked up. A wolf was crouching in the bushes not five feet from him. Its coat was shaggy and well-kept, and its eyes were dark brown, matching its fur. It was staring at him intently, though Michael was surprised to find no teeth being bared in his direction.

He looked to his right. To his surprise, the three men standing there were not approaching. They were staring at him. Michael swallowed, turning to keep both the wolf and the, well, _other_ wolves, in his sight.

“Don’t come closer,” he rasped out. His voice had blown out from screaming for his pack an hour ago.

Two of the men, the bearded one and the dark-haired one, traded glances. They both looked to be in their twenties, if not older. It made Michael nervous. If the wolf to his left was ‘Ray’... one was missing – the big-nosed one. That made him even more nervous. Now would be a _great_ time for his latent super-sniffer to reveal itself.

“We’re not trying to hurt you,” the one with dark hair and gray eyes said calmly.

Michael spat out a mouthful of blood. “Doin’ a great job.”

Gray-eyes pursed his lips and stared at the glob a lot harder than necessary. It was the beard’s turn to speak. “You’re… with a pack. But they aren’t here.”

It was clearly not a question, but Michael answered anyway in a growling tone. “Another great observation,” he bit out, working the words around the teeth.

Beard shifted nervously, hands at his sides in a non-threatening matter. The way his fingers were spread, however, was enough to raise Michael’s metaphorical hackles.

“You’re clearly…” the gray-eyed one said pointedly, gesturing to Michael’s hands, where the claws were still proudly on display. Despite his words, however, the gray-eyed one seemed confused. Michael doubted he’d ever seen a wolf half-shift before. It was fairly non-threatening, if not simply weird.

Michael opened his mouth for a scathing reply, but a throb of pain in his left calf cut him off. He flinched and dropped a hand to instinctually put pressure on the wound that he was just now becoming aware of. His heart dropped when he felt a large sliver of wood embedded deep into the muscle. It was barely poking out from his jeans, having most likely happened when he’d fallen out of the stranger’s grip.

_I can’t walk on that. And the drug isn’t healing it._

“We live here. In this compound – we live on the outskirts. Our pack can be diplomatic,” the third man said. Michael recognized him as the guy he’d careened into the first time. He sneered in resentment, angry that he’d already healed from a blow that would’ve killed any average human.

“I see you bounce back fast,” Michael growled, narrowing his eyes.

“Most of us do,” the blond said softly. But his mouth was turned up slightly, as if it was a joke.

Michael cringed when his fingers brushed against the wood in his calf. A brief thought passed through his mind that made him laugh. _Wolves tend to care and look after injured members of the pack._ Right.

Yeah, well, nature was fucked.

“We can’t leave you running around,” the blue-eyed one insisted, stepping closer. “We can help you find your pack?”

Michael was as physically human as the next guy – most of the time – but the growl that slipped through his teeth was anything but. It stopped the man dead in his tracks. “Don’t come near me,” Michael hissed, hunching his shoulders.

“The compound is about six miles from here,” the man said in a maddeningly calm voice. He stepped closer again. “We can just go back –”

“No thanks, I’m good,” Michael ground out, heart thumping wildly in his chest.

“We just want to help,” the man said, but Michael couldn’t tell if he was lying. Didn’t have good enough ears to hear the truth behind the words or not.

“How about,” Michael said, thinking quickly. “You go check on your buddy who I sent flying.”

“And let you, what? Crawl to next compound over?” the blond said sarcastically. Michael nearly laughed.

“You a telepath, blondie?”

“No, just said the stupidest idea I could come up with.”

Michael gave the man a grin, which probably was horrific what with the mouthful of teeth and blood. “Most of my ideas are pretty stupid.”

“Can’t argue with that,” the blond said, eyes roaming up and down Michael’s defenseless form. “My name is Ryan,” he said suddenly, snapping his eyes back to Michael’s.

Michael stared, searching his face. He didn’t reply, still panting rather loudly.

After a glance amongst the pack was shared, the one with the beard said, “I’m Jack. We’re trying to help.”

“Help yourselves?” Michael said aggressively. For the most part, it went unnoticed.

“I’m Geoff,” the blue-eyed one said confidently. Michael didn’t like that one. The power thrumming out from ‘Geoff’s aura was intimidating and reminded Michael of some unpleasant people from his past.

“I didn’t need your names,” Michael said, covertly adjusting the fabric of his pants to hide the splinter from view. “I need you to forget you saw me here.”

“Forget we saw you on our territory?” Ryan questioned, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

“If it means my death otherwise… yes?” Michael said, glaring up at the blond through his eyelashes. He knew his sweat-soaked face and heaving chest didn’t exactly paint the picture of confidence, but he was a tough motherfucker. He’s a scrappy fighter.

Fuck, he wished they hadn’t told him their names. The thought of killing someone, an actual _person_ with a name and a life, made his stomach clench.

 _If I even_ can _kill them._

“Your life isn’t at stake unless you threaten ours,” the one called Geoff said. He had his hands in the air, placating and calm. His expression was equally exposed, displaying nothing but honesty and a slight plea.

But at the tail end of his sentence, his blue eyes flickered to a spot just over Michael’s shoulders and widened.

Without hesitating, Michael twisted his upper body around just in time to see what had to be the moron he’d sent to the moon coming up behind him, in wolf form. His once-hazel eyes were glowing a soft yellow, trained on him silently. As soon as their eyes met, the wolf let out a snarl and lunged.

Fuck – Fuck!

Michael acted out of fear. He kicked out with his good leg, catching the wolf in the chest, but it was a fucking _were_ wolf. It wasn’t enough to counter its inertia, and Michael soon found himself pinned to the forest floor with hot breath ghosting over the skin of his face. He tucked his chin, refusing to admit defeat and snapped at the beige beast, teeth coming just inches from its snout.

“Gavin!” someone screeched angrily. Michael’s head began to spin overwhelmingly. He realized the very last of the drug was leaving his system.

He was crashing.

Vision went first. He was bitterly reminded of every reason _not_ to take the synthetic drug as his sight left him completely. Extremities numbed completely, Michael breathed out an involuntary sigh of relief when the pain vanished as well. He was fairly sure the wolf pinning him climbed off.

“You fucking moron!” someone was yelling. “Did you not see –?”

“The main thing _I_ saw was the sun, Geoff!” the man retorted in a distinct accent. He must have shifted back. Blech. “Did you see that? He sent me almost three stories in the air!”

Jack or… or Ryan sounded very thoughtful. “He’s very strong.”

“Don’t sound so impressed,” someone muttered. Their voice was too low for Michael to recognize.

There was a long stretch of silence.

“His heart has slowed,” Jack finally said.

Someone was coming closer. Michael could hear the footsteps, but he couldn’t bring himself to look. His eyes felt much better closed, and all he wanted now was to take a goddamn nap.

Two fingers gripped his chin, tilting his face upwards. He couldn’t protect his exposed throat even if he wanted to. “Kid,” whoever was crouching in front of him said. Michael’s head was shaken slightly in an attempt to rouse him. “Alright, well… threat eliminated,” the guy said awkwardly.

“I didn’t even see you hit him, Gav,” Ryan admitted quietly.

Gavin spoke in his outdoor voice. He sounded amused. “I didn’t see me hit him, either, Ryan.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Well, _someone_ needs to carry him.”

\---

The drug drained him completely, which was the most likely reason he didn’t fight when he came to in the arms of a complete stranger.

A big hand was wrapped around his upper arm, the fingertips nearly touching as the forearm carried the weight of his back. Someone’s big burly arm was supporting his legs with ease. Michael could feel the normalized gait gently rocking him as the person walked through the forest, hugging Michael’s to his chest firmly. It was probably to ensure Michael wouldn’t wriggle free, which he couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Moving right now just wasn’t an option.

He stared listlessly at the dwindling evening sky, head hanging back uncomfortably. He’d been running around the woods for an entire day. That was impressive, even for him. Usually his stamina was drained after a few hours of straight running, which was why he’d been left behind. He may’ve been able to keep moving, but he hadn’t kept up.

Honestly, he didn’t know what more he expected. Trying to keep up with a pack of superhuman junkies hopped up on secondhand drugs was a dumb idea from the start.

The skin of his right shoulder throbbed dully as the ache began to set in, but the real pain was centered in his leg. They hadn’t bandaged it or even pulled out the wood – but after Michael thought about it, he realized they probably didn’t have experience in first aid. They might not even know that the wound was there.

He has, after all, smelled like blood since before he entered the woods.

Conversation was idle. They talked about… some of the _stupidest_ things Michael’s ever heard in his life. Two of them went back and forth with pointless hypothetical questions, some of which made Michael actually crack a smile. They were surprisingly amusing. Funny, even.

The sun set before they were out of the forest. Michael closed his eyes voluntarily, enjoying the sounds of the forest around him.

Gavin spoke suddenly. “There’s still –”

“We know,” Geoff cut him off.

“But there’s a _trail_ –”

“We’ll take care of it later,” Jack replied. The voice was close. Michael realized with a jolt that the big bearded guy was the one holding him. That sucked. He looked strong enough to crush all of Michael’s very breakable bones with a single squeeze.

“With what, a _mop_?”

“I’m sorry, Ray, did you want to carry him?” Jack groused. “If you’ve got enough complaints –”

“I’m good,” Ray said quickly _. Ray_. That had been the one Michael had bodily swung around like a Muppet. He’d been wolf-ed out during the confrontation, but when Michael had woken up, he’d been chattering practically non-stop to the one with a funny accent. He cracked a lot of the jokes Michael internally chuckled at.

He was quietly picking favorites, and so far Ray was at the top, despite his earlier attempt to restrain his hands. At the bottom of the list was the leader, Geoff, who seemed perpetually irritated.

And the one with the big nose didn’t even make the list, the fucker.

Feeling returned to his limbs gradually, as if leaking from his chest to the very tips of his toes and fingers. He was slow at bouncing back from the drug. Of course. Absolutely ridiculous, it was, that after _everything_ he’d been through already – he _still_ managed to be put at a huge disadvantage at every possible turn. If anything, he should be given a goddamn refund. Maybe given his healing back.

What he was clearly saying here, is fuck his life.

A creak of a wooden gate nearly made him jump. When Jack suddenly stopped moving, Michael realized they could still hear his heart and the little skip it’d made. Unknowing of what to say, he stared stubbornly at the sky and cursed everything in his life that had led him up to this strange and awkward moment.

“I’m going to put you down now,” Jack warned him, carefully adjusting his grip to hold Michael at distance before gently setting him on his feet.

_Keep it together, keep it together, Jones._

Michael swallowed and kept his gaze steady, even as he backed away hurriedly. There were out of the forest, but it was still within eyesight. They hadn’t been lying when they said outskirts. Their land was sitting on a long stripe of land with wheat-colored grass and red dirt paths, a low wooden fence guarding their property. Michael looked at them suspiciously. This was where the five of them lived? In the wooden cabin that strongly resembled an outhouse?

That was… weird.

“We were just going to stop by for some water,” Ryan pointed out, catching the panicky look in Michael’s eyes. “And then take you to the compound.”

“I can go to the compound myself,” Michael said, edging away. He was careful to keep his weight off the gimpy leg. “I know the fucking way.”

Gavin glared at him. “Why are you so unfriendly?”

Michael blinked at the question. Unfriendly?

Ryan elbowed Gavin away. “You don’t have to answer that. Would you like some clean water? We have extra food, as long as you don’t mind eggs.”

Michael stared at him. What the hell?

“Or we could just take you back to the compound,” Ryan said after an awkward pause.

“Take me?” Michael echoed, unimpressed. “What are you, the gatekeepers?” He said it in a mocking tone but it was entirely possible.

“No,” Geoff answered. At least he was succinct – “Where is your pack?” – and direct.

“You know, on second thought, I could take some water,” Michael said slowly, warily watching the leader. He was fully expecting them to take back their offer and was surprised to see Jack nodding encouragingly.

“Water. We can do water. We have tons of water,” he said quickly, opening the gate wider. It squeaked again. “You can just wait on the porch, if you want.”

Fuck. There went his plan of raiding their bathroom for something to wrap his leg. There was no way he could just _ask_ to use their bathroom. He had no idea why these strangers had suddenly been touched by fucking Jesus himself and blessed with irrefutable kindness, but Michael wasn’t one to look a gift in the mouth or whatever. He could really use some water, so he nodded in agreement.

They gave him a berth wider than necessary, but Gavin stayed behind him. Michael glared over his shoulder. “Why do you care if I was in your ‘territory’?” he asked Geoff scathingly, walking behind at a slow pace to annoy Gavin, who had to go slower. He walked carefully to not jostle his calf. “Why can’t you just let me pass?” Ryan shared a glance with Geoff. “And can you stop with the fucking cryptic looks? I’m literally right here. Just because I’m looking at your back doesn’t mean I can’t you two fucking side-eyeing each other.”

They did it again. _Oh, fuck you guys._ Michael was suddenly having vivid flashbacks to his first pack. His familial one. Yuck.

“We don’t want any trouble caused in our territory,” Geoff replied eventually.

“’Cause you’re obviously the top dogs around here,” Michael said, pursing his lips at the loud whine the wood of the porch made under his shoes. The house was bigger up close but still moderately shabby.

Ryan chuckled at that. “I can see why you’d think that, but actually –”

Geoff jumped in and cut him off. “We just don’t want any issues with the town itself to somehow land in our hands, for _us_ to deal with.”

Michael smirked. “Let me guess. I’m the issue?”

Geoff gave him a wry smile and didn’t reply as he disappeared into the house. The screen of the front door was practically hanging on by bare threads.

Gavin leaned against one of the support beams, staring at Michael as if waiting for him to make a break for it. He’d be lying if he said it hadn’t passed his mind. Michael stared back at him challengingly before gritting his teeth and pointing his glare somewhere else. Looking at that prick was expending the energy he was only just beginning to scrape back together.

“You reek.”

Gavin’s blunt statement surprised him. And _annoyed_ him. “The woods don’t exactly scream hygiene.”

“Of blood, you reek of blood.”

Michael licked his split lip before glancing down at his shirt he’d drooled blood all over. “Gee, wonder why.”

Gavin stared at him unhappily, like he was the piece of a puzzle that he’d gotten stuck on. There was no concern or worry in his gaze. Just frustration.

“How did you do that?” Gavin suddenly asked after a short moment of silence. When Michael just looked blankly at him, he added, “You sent me _flying_ into the air and you weren’t even shifted. How did you do that?”

Michael uncrossed his arms to wave sarcastically. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I saw you doing the exact same thing. Aimed at me, I might add.”

“You started it,” Gavin pointed out.

“What? No, I didn’t, you fucking _ambushed_ me.”

“We didn’t ambush you,” Gavin said, affronted that Michael had even suggested such a thing.

“You ambushed my _pack_ ,” Michael ground out, tucking his hands under his arms and looking away. His pack. He wondered distantly where they were right now, if they were even thinking about him. His conflicted feelings about them could wait until he was at least out of danger. And right now, staring at this guy who was looking at him like he’d enjoy nothing more than punching him in the throat, Michael couldn’t be in more danger.

Gavin, at least, seemed to understand what Michael was talking about. “There are no Spirits here,” he explained tightly. “We’re the only wolves here. The only pack.”

“ _We_ were just passing through,” Michael defended hotly, though a shiver of uncertainty caused his tone falter. He hadn’t been told what they were doing in this compound. Perhaps they were only staying overnight. Perhaps they were here to start shit. Who knew? But Michael was nothing if not loyal.

“We’re the only ones here to protect these humans,” Gavin said.

Michael’s eyes snapped back to him. He couldn’t help the small burst of sarcastic laughter from leaving his mouth. “Protect these humans? _Why?_ ”

Gavin looked pained. “Where are you even from?”

“Not this compound, that’s for sure,” Michael said, not liking the subject change. “We didn’t have a group of supernatural jackasses looking after us, that’s for sure.”

“None of that answered my question,” Gavin said, shaking his head. He didn’t push any further.

“Dumb question,” Michael muttered anyway.

There was a long moment of silence. Even without advanced hearing, Michael could hear the house creaking and moaning with every step someone took inside. He wasn’t the talkative type these days, not by a stretch, but he couldn’t help the question that slipped out. “Do you all… live here? Together?”

Gavin didn’t like that question, even less than he liked Michael’s disbelief at protecting humans. “Yes,” he said in a strangled voice.

Michael eyed him but didn’t continue. He didn’t want to know.

The front door opened and Ryan stepped out with a big glass of clear water. Michael’s eyes widened. There was even ice.

Ryan stood farther than arms length away and offered the glass. Michael took it with thinly veiled enthusiasm and downed it in two very large gulps, trying to ignore the look on Ryan’s face as he handed back the empty cup.

There was a long pause before Gavin couldn’t seem to help himself from saying, “When someone does something nice for you, a ‘thank you’ is generally appreciated.”

Michael flushed slightly at the tone. “Er – right. Thanks… sorta.”

Gavin scoffed. “‘ _Sorta_ ’,” he mocked, looking at Ryan like _can you believe this guy_?

“I mean, you did kinda fucking _run me down_ in the woods.”

“Run you down? You scream bloody murder for four hours and someone is going to come investigate!”

Michael snorted and turned his face, effectively disengaging the rising argument. He was impulsive, but he wasn’t moronic. And he certainly didn’t have a death wish. “And now you’re strong-arming me back into town. Not exactly sure why I owe you gratitude.”

“I think Gavin was talking about the water,” Ryan interjected, raising an eyebrow unnaturally high.

“Well, thank you for the water,” Michael said uncomfortably. His calf was really beginning to throb and ugh – the scrapes higher up on his arm weren’t going to heal without at least two or three manly sniffles as he peeled the dead skin off. He could already feel the stinging.

“Would you like more?” Ryan asked tentatively.

The word _poison_ crossed his mind fleetingly. “No, I’m good. Can… can I just leave? Or is that encroaching on your territory?”

It came out a little more confrontational than Michael planned, but Ryan simply tilted his head at him. “In a hurry?” the blond asked casually.

“Yes, actually, I’d like to catch up to my fucking pack,” Michael said. He caught Gavin’s overly amazed expression and snapped, “What?”

“I think that’s the first time you’ve told the truth,” Gavin told him with raised eyebrows.

Damn fucking hearing. Michael almost forgot that he was supposed to be passing off as one of them, too. By all appearances, he could do everything they could do. “I do have a tendency to compulsively lie. What can I say? Makes things interesting.”

“Lie,” was all Gavin replied with. Michael was really beginning to hate this guy.

“You’re fucking annoying,” Michael muttered. Gavin grinned.

“Truth.”

Ryan practically cut the conversation in half and stuffed it under the rug in his haste to dampen the tension. Michael was thrumming with it, glaring hard at Gavin. “What’s your name?” he asked quickly.

Michael broke eye contact with Gavin to look at Ryan. “Michael,” he answered nervously.

“Michael,” Ryan repeatedly warmly. It made Michael shift in discomfort. He wished someone else was on the porch alone with him, someone other than Creep and Prick. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Michael gaped at him. “You can’t be fucking serious.” Ryan didn’t even blink at him, holding the friendly expression like it had iced over. “You’re a pack of goddamn psychopaths,” Michael muttered to himself.

“Again, that’s not generally how you –”

“Stop talking to me,” Michael growled at Gavin. “I don’t care.”

“About social etiquette? Everyone cares about social etiquette.”

Michael gestured to his old, dirty clothes. He paid special attention to his shoes, which were a little worse for wear. “Clearly, anything having to do with socializing isn’t at the top of my priorities.”

“I reckon you should straighten that out, then,” Gavin responded glibly. “Maybe stop chasing after your pack.”

“I _reckon_ you should shut your fucking mouth,” Michael hissed.

“Hey.” A voice practically demanded their attention. Both men jolted slightly and stood up straighter. Michael couldn’t hear it, but he would guess Gavin’s heart was going about as fast as his was.

Geoff stepped onto the porch, Jack and Ray both following closely behind. Contrary to Geoff’s stern tone, all of their expressions were light. Curious, even. Geoff was hosting a small glass of browned water. Michael frowned and actually felt a fair amount of guilt wash up.

“You didn’t have to –” Michael blurted before he could help himself. He swallowed and continued awkwardly. “You didn’t have to fucking give me your only clean water.”

They stared at him. Even more awkwardly.

Michael was starting to question his sanity by the time Geoff finally spoke.

“This is bourbon.”

Michael could give nothing but a blank stare. Bourbon?

“Whiskey,” Jack supplied unhelpfully. When Michael said nothing, he continued, “It’s clean. Not exactly top of the line, and we had to work our ass off to get it, but it’s definitely clean.”

“Why’s it brown?”

“That’s just… that’s just its color.” Jack sounded as lost as Michael felt.

Geoff looked at him contemplatively and then at his drink before swallowing the liquid in one gulp. Jack seemed surprised he did so. Ray cringed.

“Alright, kid, here’s the deal,” Geoff said, cracking his fingers. Michael stiffened, overly familiar with the alpha-style posturing some leaders liked to display. While he wasn’t a beggar by any means, Michael would back down if he was threatened with a fight he couldn’t win. Fuck, he’d roll over and bare his throat if it truly came down to life or death.

He says that _now._

“We know you came here with a pack,” Geoff started, staring flatly into Michael’s eyes. “And we know that that pack is no longer in the compound. Which leaves you in our territory… alone.”

“I’m not –”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not alone, whatever,” Geoff said, waving him off briskly. Michael bit his tongue to keep in the retort. “Point is, you’re smack in the middle of the most unfriendly human compound you could find around these parts. The locals _will_ kill us if we step foot into town.”

A snort slipped out. “And you protect these locals?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Geoff said flatly. “They’re humans. They can’t protect themselves.”

Michael averted his gaze. The reluctant _yeah, okay I get it_ was unspoken but Geoff seemed satisfied with it.

“We’ve been here a while,” Geoff continued without allowing the silence to go on too long. “They know what we are. We can’t go into town and buy food anymore.”

Michael had no idea where this was going, but he asked his question regardless. “Why don’t you move? Why are you even in this compound at all? What’s special about this one?”

Geoff didn’t seem fazed at Michael’s quick-fire questions. “We do what we can. No one else is going to step up if we leave.”

That made sense. Kinda. Michael didn’t get why they were protecting humans so viciously in the first place, but if that was their goal, then it made sense they were still here.

Geoff stepped closer. Michael automatically backed up, but his butt hit the railing of the front porch. His heartbeat skyrocketed, especially as Geoff slowly walked towards him. Michael clenched his hands. His recharge was devastatingly long.

Geoff stopped just inside Michael’s personal bubble, which was admittedly a little larger than average. All of Michael’s muscles were pulled tight in preparation to haul ass. Hey, when your skin took weeks to properly repair itself, it was a reasonable, okay?

But then they just stared at each other.

“We’re negotiating,” Geoff clued him in. Was that a smile? That was totally a smile. Michael narrowed his eyes. Was this guy playing with him?

“On?” Michael tried.

“Our conditions.”

“Conditions?” Michael repeated, brow furrowing. “Conditions for what? Me _leaving_?”

Geoff did smile this time. A tight-lipped _you got it_ smile. Michael hated it.

“I – I was already _leaving_!” Michael said outraged. “You stopped me from leaving! And now you’re making me pay to leave?”

“That’s a good way to look at it,” Geoff said appreciatively. “It’s like a toll.”

“What are you, a fucking troll? I’m not paying you to do what I was literally in the process of doing –”

Geoff stepped closer again, nearly bumping chests. He cut off Michael’s rant without saying a single word. Yet another thing Michael hated. Holding his breath, he glared venomously at Geoff through narrowed eyes, waiting for the older man to bark out his demands.

Geoff was definitely not one for barking. Pretty much everything he did was lazy, including staring at Michael and mulling over his words. “I’m not asking for money,” he finally decided on saying. “Money is useless to us at this point. We want food.”

Michael’s mouth flopped open. He took a full thirty seconds or so to properly digest the words. Geoff waited patiently, still leering absurdly close to Michael. “Food? I – what, like fucking tiny woodland creatures?” His stomach turned at the thought of hunting, alone, in the woods. “I don’t think I can do that for you.”

Geoff looked surprised at his answer and actually laughed. It wasn’t a bad sound. “We don’t eat squirrels or rabbits or any other small woodland creatures. Usually. I meant food inside the stores in town.”

Michael grimaced. That was an easier request, but still… “And if I don’t?”

Geoff’s face didn’t change but fuck – it’s like his irises tightened. It’s like Michael could _see_ his irises tighten. Michael leaned back, but Geoff just followed him. An instinct clicked into place and Michael’s jerk reaction was to kick out a leg.

Which was probably the stupidest thing he could’ve done.

Not only was it his bad leg that he’d kicked out with, his reflexes were dulled to the point of useless. He’d only just started to raise his hands by the time Geoff was already grappling him to the floor, pinning him against the boards with barely a commotion.

Michael hissed at the pain in his shoulder when Geoff pulled his arms behind his back. His sternum dug into the wooden planks. Growling, Michael knew before he’d even entered his conversation that he was at their mercy, but he couldn’t stop from jerking his shoulders in rebellion.

A knee was placed carefully at the small of his back. It didn’t press in. Yet.

“You really like to challenge authority, don’t you?” Geoff asked. He… didn’t sound angry. Michael frowned in confusion. The guy _sounded_ like he was having fun.

He really did stumble into a nest of lunatics, didn’t he. Fuck.

“It’s a hobby of mine,” he chose to grit out into the floorboards. Whatever, at least he still had his dignity. If his mouth could run, he would always have a shred of honor.

Geoff tsked at him, leaning back some. “That could get you hurt one day,” he told him. “Listening to someone mouth off at you is only entertaining for so long.”

Michael couldn’t argue with that.

Geoff let go of his wrists and the weight disappeared from his back. Michael climbed to his feet with effort that had him panting. His leg was beginning to sting like a bitch and Geoff hadn’t treated his shoulder too kindly. Rolling it with a bitter face, Michael met Geoff’s eyes for only a few moments before looking away.

He bit his lip. Goddammit.

“What kind of fucking food did you want?”

\---

With sharp eyes,Geoff watched the kid fidget on the couch. It was interesting, to say the least. Geoff hadn’t laid eyes on another friendly, albeit crass, person in months, aside from his boys.

He was rapidly approaching the title of official recluse concerning his social life, and his communal skills were slightly stunted as a result, but even he could see how fucking _nervous_ this runt in front of him was. Honestly, it made Geoff nervous as well. He had no idea what had the kid so riled up in the woods, but that show of power without shifting was something he had to look into, if just for innate curiosity. And there was something off about the entire situation. The kid was _way_ too guarded. There wasn’t a moment in time that Geoff could look at him and see an open, honest expression. Plus he smelled a bit strange, almost chemical-like.

He couldn’t just… let him leave.

As it was, Geoff was cautious of letting him in the house. He didn’t exactly give himself a lot of options by physically forcing Michael – that was his name, right? Michael? – to agree to the terms. He goes to the store tomorrow, buys two carts worth of groceries, and brings them back, and Michael gets to book it out of dodge with no skin off his back.

But there lay another eight hours before the grocery stores opened.

Geoff suddenly didn’t know what to do with the kid.

“Do you want another glass of water?” he tried after a long fifteen minutes of suffering in silence. The smell of cooking food from the kitchen was floating into the living room and causing both of their stomachs to growl.

Michael looked as if he’d just bit into a lemon. “No. No, I’m good.”

 _Of course he is._ “What about some bourbon?” Geoff asked, switching tactics.

“Uh, no,” Michael said, watching Geoff guardedly.

“How old are you?”

Geoff allowed Michael a pause to think over his answer. Meanwhile, he focused his hearing in the silence, zeroing in on the steady beat of Michael’s heart as the redhead answered reluctantly. “Twenty.”

Nodding his head, Geoff smiled. “Young. Too young to be in a strangerhood pack, that’s for sure.”

Michael tensed further, if possible, shifting so his leg was tucked under his butt. Geoff didn’t mind his shoes on the furniture, but knew Jack would.

“It wasn’t hard to tell. It was the smell,” Geoff said, answering Michael’s unasked question. “There wasn’t an emotional bond.”

“Did you -” Michael blurted before snapping his mouth shut. He cleared his throat and started again, much more calmly. “Did you, uh, see them? Like, in person.”

“No, I just caught their scent,” Geoff said.

Michael seemed let down by his answer and sunk into the cushions. He didn’t say anything, staring down at his hands. They were dirty as hell.

“Do you want to wash up or something?” Geoff ventured.

Michael’s eyes lit up. “Yes, please,” he said in what could absolutely be considered a begging tone, as if he’d been waiting for Geoff to offer. He was already standing up and looking around for the bathroom. “Which way–?”

Geoff cocked an eyebrow and jabbed a finger behind him. “Through the kitchen directly across the hall.”

Michael shuffled past him, careful not to touch, and darted through the kitchen without as much as glancing at the others. Geoff rolled his eyes and stood up, strolling into the kitchen at a much slower pace.

“We’re out of green beans,” Gavin said immediately upon seeing him. His scowl had grown since the last time Geoff saw it.

“We’re getting more tomorrow,” Geoff said sweetly.

Gavin grumbled something under his breath and turned back to the stove. Geoff didn’t bother trying to make out the words, grinning instead at Ryan.

“Have you put together a good list?” Geoff asked, eyeballing the pencil in the blond’s hand. “Everything we need?”

“Yep,” Ryan said, holding up a long scribble of words. “It’s going to be expensive, though.”

“I still think this is completely pointless,” Gavin said sullenly. “What if we give him the money to pay and he just takes it and leaves?”

“He’s too scared to do that,” Ray mused, stirring a pot of gravy. His glasses were fogged up slightly from the heat. “Besides, what the hell is he going to do with that money? He looks like he lives in the goddamn woods.”

“He _does_ live in the woods,” Jack pointed out. “They’d have little to no chance of living in a town if it’s a strangerhood pack like Geoff thinks.”

“It is,” Geoff said confidently. “He practically threw up into his hands when I mentioned it.”

“Just what our couch needed,” Gavin muttered. “Mud stains and vomit.”

“I guarantee that his would be easier to clean up than yours,” Geoff laughed.

“Who even knows what’s in his stomach,” Gavin said, brandishing a spoon in Geoff’s direction. His face darkened. “Probably feces and human flesh–”

“He can probably hear you, Gav,” Jack interrupted.

“Good!” Gavin cried. “He was a prick to me. I don’t know why he’s suddenly being treated like an honored guest when just a few hours ago he was attempting to send me to the moon.”

Jack side-eyed Geoff in quiet agreement. Geoff could also feel Ray’s questioning glance. He sighed. “I know,” he said quietly. “I know what you’re all thinking. I’m just trying to figure out the deal with him. I feel for the kid, is that so wrong?”

“It is when it gets one of us killed,” Gavin said.

Geoff’s eyes flashed at that. “I wouldn’t put you in danger.”

Gavin pursed his lips and didn’t argue.

“If I recall correctly, Gav, just a year or two ago you and Ray were in similar positions,” Geoff pushed. Ray cringed and Gavin’s face went blank.

“I wasn’t part of a pack,” he said, confused.

Geoff sighed, eyes cutting to the side. _Neither is he, Gav, not really._ “No, but you were lost and dangerous, to yourself and others. How did I know that the two morons sneaking into our backyard weren’t out for blood?”

Gavin looked offended to be compared to Michael. “Ray and I weren’t punching people!”

“He only punched you once,” Ryan pointed out, rolling his eyes. “There was no real bloodshed.”

Gavin threw him a dirty look. “Tell that to the trees he toppled.”

“It’s a _forest,_ there are hundreds of trees,” Ryan rebuked. “Besides, I think that may’ve been more my fault than his.”

“There are also hundreds of compounds he could be at right now instead of this one,” Gavin said flatly. “I don’t like him. He’s mouthy and doesn’t even listen to you, Geoff.”

“I’m not sure where you were the last hour, but last I saw Geoff had him in check,” Ray said softly, placing his hand on Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin seemed to unwind slightly.

“Yeah, well, he reeks of blood,” Gavin sniffed. “Stinks to high hell.”

“I told him he could go wash up,” Geoff said consolingly, reaching forward to brush fingers against the skin of Gavin’s upper arm. He could hear the brunette’s heart rate pick up for a few beats before relaxing.

Gavin look more serious than Geoff had seen him in months. “Geoff. He smells like _human_ blood.”

Humanblood?

Michael appeared in the doorway as soon as the words were uttered. He looked pale and more than annoyed, heart beating wildly. He spoke before anyone else could. “That what happens when there are humans in your pack that get hurt.”

Geoff felt his jaw go slack. “Humans in… what?” Fuck, he felt slightly sick. Had he just ripped away a pack member from a pack with _humans_ in it? “Are they okay?”

Michael’s eyes cut to the side. “Yeah, fine,” he said gruffly.

“There are humans in your pack?” Gavin said in disbelief. He set the spoon on the counter and stared at Michael, completely shocked. Everyone mirrored the feeling, leaving the once friendly atmosphere thick with tension. “That… you didn’t tell me that.”

“The few conversations we’ve had weren’t exactly over brunch,” Michael snapped. “Yes, there are humans in my pack.” He seemed on the verge of another question, so Geoff waited until – “Do I still smell like blood?”

Geoff craned his neck forward and took a deep sniff. The honest answer was yes, exceedingly so, but he went with, “No, not anymore.”

Michael didn’t notice the looks the others were giving Geoff, thank fuck. “Good,” he said, relieved.

“You could’ve washed your hair,” Geoff said gently, eyes raking over the messy rat’s nest of curls that were matted with dirt.

“Or all of you,” Gavin added in a much ruder tone than Geoff’s.

“They’re saying that you were welcomed to use the shower,” Ryan said when Michael had nothing but a blank look. “Does your family have a house, or…?”

The question hung heavy in the air. Michael stared at Ryan as if he’d started speaking a foreign language before slowly and jerkily shaking his head. “No, I told you we were just passing through.”

Hm. No lie. Ryan seemed to reach the same conclusion and asked a slightly different question. “Do you live in a house?”

Michael was quiet, the gears in his head clunking together practically visible. “We like to roam,” he said finally.

“Sweet deflection,” Ray laughed. His friendly bluntness seemed to pull an amused snort from Michael.

“It wasn’t my best,” Michael agreed. He offered Ray a small, tentative smile.

Oh. _That’s interesting_.

“Dinner is almost ready,” Geoff said, clearing his throat. “If you’re hungry?”

Michael was already shaking his head before he got past the word ‘dinner’. “I’m fine, thanks,” he said, apparently having unearthed manners in the past half hour. He seemed to be having trouble getting the rest of the words out, but finally, “I’m tired, though. Uh… god, can you please just let me leave? I’ll come back or whatever – I just don’t think I can take asking to crash on your couch.”

Geoff broke into a smile, the tension leaking from the room slightly as Michael practically deflated with his words. Though he knew the boy was just as hungry as the rest of them, Geoff nodded in agreement, saying, “Sleeping on the couch it is, then, since you suggested it. Good idea, Michael.”

He politely ignored the flush that spread across Michael’s face, or the way he jerked back as if slapped. “I – no,” Michael said hastily, denying the offer even though Geoff could tell he was exhausted and probably hadn’t slept on something soft in weeks. Geoff felt his heart ache for the kid.

“I think it would be fine, as long as you don’t kill us in our sleep or steal our shit,” Geoff said, staring expectantly at Michael. He didn’t expect him to argue and wasn’t surprised when Michael blanched. _Okay, so at the very least he has a moral compass. That’s reassuring._

“I won’t do that,” Michael said quickly.

Gavin made a harsh noise in the back of his throat. “How do we know you won’t sneak upstairs and slit our throats?”

“Gav–” Geoff started in irritation.

“I _was_ , you know… trying to slit your throat, like, four hours ago,” Michael said with a weak smile. His eyes were beginning to droop. “It’s a valid concern. One I would be thinking about, if I had a house… and that to worry about…”

Gavin had the decency to look surprised and slightly taken aback. He glanced at Jack, who shook his head in exasperation.

“No one thinks you’re going to do that,” Jack said to Michael. His voice turned firm, however, as he gave the redhead a warning of his own. “We’ll be able to hear you coming before you even think of getting up, anyway. I doubt you’d make it to the hall closet with _your_ throat still intact.”

Geoff didn’t blame Michael for paling and looking, quite frankly, _terrified_. Jack was as big as a grizzly bear and fought like one, too: viciously, with no punches pulled. Geoff had been on the receiving end on one of those swings before. Knocked a tooth flat out of his mouth.

Ray laughed from behind Gavin and slipped around to stand unusually close to Michael. Geoff was surprised the latter didn’t inch away.

“Don’t take any of them too seriously,” Ray told him with a smile. “That one impaled himself on the fence early this morning,” he said, pointing to an insulted Gavin, “and that one shit his pants on the couch the other day,” he finished, motioning at Geoff.

Geoff cracked a grin at the range of emotions that crossed Michael’s face. It went quickly from amusement to realization to revulsion. “The same couch I was supposed to fucking _sleep_ on?”

Ray immediately burst into laughter. The room was still restless and stiff, but Ray’s obvious mirth drew a few chuckles from the others. “Don’t worry, we supervised as he dragged it to the front yard and hosed it down.”

Michael’s doubtful gaze found its way over to Geoff. “You didn’t… help?”

Ryan snickered. “Do you think he needed it?”

Michael’s expression was answer enough.

“Thanks, guys,” Geoff muttered before turning and gesturing for Michael to step into the family room. Michael glanced agonizingly at Ray before following, darting past Ryan and Gavin as if expecting to be attacked.

The family room didn’t seem to put Michael at ease, but he did shrink three sizes when out from under the conjoined stare of five eyes. As it was, he was warily eyeing the wrong spot on the couch while Geoff hunted around the messy room for a blanket and pillow.

Catching Michael’s face when he glanced over his shoulder, Geoff said, “That’s the wrong cushion.”

“But… why did you shit on the couch in the first place?”

“I was reading. Don’t look so horrified, dude, I cleaned it,” Geoff said, wondering briefly when he’d begun using childish words like ‘dude’ as he pulled out a wooly blanket out from under a heavy pile of books. He cringed. Hopefully Michael didn’t mind a few dust bunnies as bed buddies.

“Do you usually sit naked on the couch?” Michael asked in distress. He looked as if he’d swallowed an antiseptic wipe.

Geoff laughed as he folded the blanket. “What makes you think we sit naked on the couch?”

“How else –” Michael choked off.

“What?”

“Unless,” Michael narrowed his eyes. “You shit through both your underwear and pants?”

Geoff rolled his eyes and held out the blanket. Michael took it with a pinched off face.

“Which cushion was it?” he asked casually, unfolding the blanket and brushing off some of the dust bunnies without comment.

Geoff bit his lip, glad that Michael couldn’t see his face as he leant over the coffee table to search for a useable pillow that had no blood stains, dirt smudges, or charred edges. Truth was, as hard as he’d scrubbed, the only thing he could completely get rid of was the discoloration. Every damn time Ray sat down on the couch, the first words out of his mouth were a complaint about the lingering stench of shit.

But fuck, if Michael couldn’t smell it, Geoff wasn’t going to point it out. “That one,” he said, pointing to the wrong one.

Michael twitched, but sat down accordingly. He bundled the blanket in his lap and kneaded it with his knuckles.

Geoff sighed. “I’ll make you a deal,” he proposed, sitting down on the table across from Michael.

“‘Kay,” Michael said slowly.

 _Short and sweet._ “I won’t stab you if you don’t stab me.”

A laugh was startled out of Michael. “Deal. No maiming.”

“Or stealing,” Geoff added.

“Or going back on agreements,” Michael said, giving Geoff a significant look.

“I already said that you’re clear to leave after we get our food,” Geoff pointed out.

“‘ _Clear to leave’_ ,” Michael repeated mockingly. He only seemed slightly angry. Well, that was an improvement from his earlier inch-long fuse. Apparently it’d been lengthened to _four_ inches. “You said you weren’t the gatekeepers, but I’m not any closer to believing it.”

“It would be a different story if you were human,” Geoff conceded. “For all we knew, you were looking for the nearest family to maul.”

Michael had an unreadable expression on his face. “And what do you know now?”

“I know that you’re not looking for any families to maul,” Geoff said briskly, stomach rumbling. He was fucking _starving._

Michael didn’t seem satisfied with that answer but nodded nonetheless, leaning back. Handing him the pillow, Geoff stood up and backed away. He hesitated near the doorway, glancing back.

“If you sneak off in the middle of the night, we’d have to come after you,” Geoff told him gravely. He could hear the steady tempo of his own heartbeat and hoped Michael was listening to the truth behind each pump.

“Right,” Michael said, twisting the blanket in his hands. “I sorta assumed.”

Geoff smiled and, purely to show off, allowed power to pool in his eyes, the irises flashing a brilliant white. Michael stared at him.

“Do nothing stupid,” Geoff supplied as a goodnight before he allowed Michael some rest.

\---

Never in his life did Michael picture himself falling asleep in a house of five strangers, but there was no denying the unfamiliar scent of _newnewnew_ invading his nose as he blinked his dry, sandy eyes open. Someone had thrown a pillow at him.

He stared at the wooden ceiling for a solid five seconds before flinging himself off the couch. The blanket tripped him immediately, pulling tight around his ankle and sending him flailing to the floor. He could have sworn that a cloud of dust was expelled from the floorboards when he made impact.

 _Ugh, oh god, what the fuck_ –

“Wow, that was graceful,” someone commented from above him. Michael scrambled up, clutching the blanket to his chest to shield his imaginary breasts from view, only to be met with the confused face of… Ryan, was the name, right?

“Ryan?” Michael tested.

He nodded. “I figured you’d want to be awake before everyone else was.”

“Th-thank you,” Michael said, genuinely surprised. He itched to ask why, but knew it wasn’t important. Dropping the sheet, he scratched mindlessly at the back of his head. His stomach felt long-ago hollowed, but hunger wasn’t the only cause.

He was once again human. Well – vulnerable, he should say. Almost completely defenseless now that he didn’t have some sort of booster in his system. He was left with just claws, teeth, and an impressive growl, but none of those could save him if Geoff turned around and decided Michael wasn’t worth the risk.

At least they still thought him a wolf.

Deciding it was about time to get off the floor, Michael picked himself up and tossed the blanket back on the couch. Ryan was staring at him, blue eyes calculating.

“What?” Michael finally asked.

“You smell terrible. Are you sure you’re not going to take us up on that shower offer?”

The asshole was so hopeful. Michael scowled at him and, just to spite him: “No, I’m good,” _it’s not like I can smell it, anyway._

Ryan looked faintly sick as Michael passed him to go to the bathroom. As he went, he thanked the small gifts in life, such as having clear skin and not waking up with morning wood.

But as soon as he closed the bathroom door, a shower sounded _wonderful._ He eyed the stainless steel knobs that might as well have been from another country, glancing at his reflection a moment later and cringing. Spending an evening playing topple and tumble in the forest with a group of wolves had left him sweaty and covered in dirt. By now, the sweat had cooled, but he was beginning to resemble a posterchild dumpster diver.

After picking a leaf from his hair, he swooped to hastily wash his face with cold water and clean his mouth out. His eyes were sore as hell, but not as bad as his arm.

Speaking of, the friction burns were looking a little rough. The drug had managed to heal all the way up to his shoulder and his t-shirt hid the rest, but the remaining marks were red and angry. He pressed cold fingers to the puffy skin.

His leg was fine. He’d spent a while in the bathroom last night carefully extracting the sliver of wood from his leg and cleaning the wound. Now it was wrapped tightly with the waistband of his underwear that he’d cleaned with soap and water in the sink.

Not exactly the most sanitary, but Michael figured his improvisation was worth a round of applause.

He didn’t bother checking the wound. Instead, he just raked his fingers through his hair to dislodge some visible clumps of dirt before deciding he was presentable enough and opening the bathroom door.

Immediately, he was met with the sight of a very tired-looking Geoff. Michael snapped to attention before he could fully register who it was.

Unimpressed, gray eyes darted up to his hair and then to his clothes. He made a face. “Take a shower,” he said, voice thick with sleep.

Michael’s jaw tightened. “I’m not –”

“Just take the fucking shower,” Geoff said in exasperation. As if on cue, Ray appeared next to him with a stack of clean clothes and a towel. In the other arm, he was cradling a variety of bottles. Geoff’s eyes brightened at the sight of the younger. “Ray, you’re a blessing I will never deserve.”

“I try,” Ray yawned before pawning all materials off to Michael, who dropped an orange bottle not two seconds later. It was slippery as fuck, all wet and slimy.

“Don’t make that face, it’s just conditioner,” Geoff told him, bending down to pick it up. “Most of us shower upstairs… and most of us don’t need that much conditioner, so feel free to use as much as you like.” The way he said it made it seem like he was expecting Michael to use all of it.

Geoff took a big sniff and grimaced with enough force to step back. He waved a hand in front of his nose. “Good god. I’m gonna have to wash the couch again.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “At least you have practice, Geoff.”

As soon as Michael said it, he wished to eat the words. Geoff didn’t notice, just shrugging in noncommittal agreement before trodding down the hall, robe dragging behind him. Mouth dry, Michael backed up and closed the door.

That had been weird… addressing that man as if they were friends. He hadn’t said Geoff’s name with such familiarity before, if he’d said it at all. It was unsettling.

_Note to self: figure out last names. Use those. They’re more formal._

Michael spent a long time just staring at the wood of the door before finally kicking into gear. He twisted and pulled the metal knobs until they finally turned on, but he couldn’t figure out the temperature settings so he had to tolerate one of the _hottest_ showers ever, gritting his teeth and biting off groans of pain all the while.

Fuck. _Fuck._ This was a terrible idea. His shoulder burned like he’d just rubbed sandpaper on it and his leg was bleeding again. _Smart fucking idea, Michael, why don’t you go and just punch Geoff in the nose and end it now? Maybe do a naked dance in the front yard, first, just to spite him._

He passed the time mentally judging himself as the scalding water washed away all the dirt and grime. The instructions on the bottles were in a language he couldn’t read but he took his best guess, later ending up with conditioner in places conditioner should _never_ be. After the fourth cycle of _rinse, lather, repeat_ in all the right areas,Michael was clean enough to have just emerged from a nearby womb. And his hair was soft as shit, which was a major plus in his books.

The moment he opened the bathroom door – now dressed in ill-fitting clothes but squeaky clean – there was a suspicious whoop of victory from the kitchen. The accompanying groan had Michael muttering angrily under his breath as he followed.

He was instantly met with five pairs of rather… startled eyes? Michael stared back at them uncomprehendingly until Ryan finally cleared his throat. The spell was instantly broken and then they were all looking at Geoff.

Michael was _really_ beginning to question his current existence here.

“What?” he asked flatly, hesitating to enter the room. Jack coughed and slid out the coffee pot to pour himself a cup.

“Nothing,” Gavin choked out through a miscalculated gulp of orange juice. As soon as the word was past his lips, he dissolved into a coughing fit that turned his cheeks bright red.

Ray was smirking around his spoon full of cereal. “You just look a lot different when you’re clean.”

Alright, whatever. “Are the grocery stores open yet?” he asked desperately.

Jack glanced at an old-fashioned clock on the wall. “Yep. We can leave in a few minutes, just let me –”

“We can’t go now?” Michael blurted, slightly angry. What did these people think he was doing here? Executing a social visit? God, if he didn’t get his ass in gear, his pack was going to leave him in the dust. And then he’d be in real thick shit, especially since they were right in the center of human compounds.

No one seemed bothered by his rudeness now. “We’re gonna sit down and have breakfast before we leave,” Jack answered lightly. When Michael just looked incredulous, he pointed to the remaining empty chair. An clean, blue plate was placed in front of it. “You can join us, if you want.”

Fingers tightening on the doorframe, Michael weighed his options. On one hand, that food could be poisonous to him and by eating it, he could be handing over an easier way to ‘get rid of the issue’ – the issue still being him. Or they could just be trying to eat him for sustenance.

On the other, he hadn’t eaten in two days and none of them seemed to be nearing the end of their fucking three course meal yet. _No wonder they need food, they eat like Vikings,_ he thought distantly, taking the seat. Next to him was Ray, thank fuck, and… yeah, Gavin was glaring at him from across the table.

After allowing himself to glare back for a few moments, Michael looked around at what everyone else was doing. ‘Digging in’ was putting it lightly. There was toast stacked high on a plate, stripes of bacon scattered along the checkered cloth tabletop, and Jack was shoveling out what looked like four helpings of scrambled eggs into his mouth. Geoff was drinking that brown water again.

Seeing his expression, Ray waved to catch his attention. “It’s not poisoned,” he said jokingly, but Michael remained distrustful. To demonstrate, Ray grabbed a piece of toast and unerringly shoved the entire thing in his mouth. “Ya’ shee?”

Mouth twitching, Michael tentatively reached forward to snag a corner of one and drag it off the plate. Keeping eye contact with Ray – wow, which turned out to be very awkward when opening your mouth wide and putting something in it – he chewed and swallowed. His stomach growled in encouragement.

He didn’t eat anything other than the toast, but by the time everyone else was packing it in, he’d finished off at least half of the plate. That was almost thirty slices of bread.

Michael had never felt fuller.

“Alright,” Jack said as he stood up. “Geoff’s going to walk you as close as he can get. We made a list – here – and here’s the money… should be enough for everything on there.”

“What if it’s not?” Michael said, picturing himself being declined at the register. He wondered if he would be made to put all shit back on the shelves. Looking at the list, that had to be at least a hundred items.

“It is,” Ryan assured him.

“And where will the rest of you be?” Michael said distrustfully, pocketing the list. The jeans he was wearing slid down a few inches and he pulled them back up. “Don’t you have a belt I can use?”

“I got one,” Ray said at once, standing up and leaving.

“The rest of us,” Gavin said pointedly, bringing them back on topic, “will be around,” _making sure you don’t make a run for it._ Michael could fill in the blanks.

“Right,” he said, pulling up his pants again.

“We gave you clothes that hopefully don’t smell too much like us, but you’re still going to smell like you,” Ryan said. Michael knew by _you_ he meant _wolf._ The irony could kill him. “Stay away from the hardware store.”

“The hardware store?”

“Don’t even look at it,” Geoff hissed darkly, eyes flashing again. Michael jumped, but he was quickly learning that Geoff, while obviously the leader, was trusted not to lose control; no one else in the room seemed to even notice.

Michael itched to ask why, but then Ray was thundering down the stairs with a casual, brown belt in hand. Relieved, Michael carefully plucked it from his hands and weaved it through the loops in his pants. He glanced up when he realized Ray was staring at him and hurriedly stammered out, “Oh – thanks.”

Ray smiled widely, no teeth. “Your welcome.”

“Try not to talk to many people, either,” Jack said, cringing slightly. “It’s about a month away from the next culling. People aren’t in the best of spirits for the season.”

“Uh huh,” Michael said. This was going to go _great_.

Jack looked few shades sympathetic. “Just don’t make faces at people and don’t be unnecessarily rude.”

There was a pause.

“I’m starting to rethink this idea,” Geoff mumbled as he finished off his bourbon. Michael couldn’t help but agree.

\---

The bulk of the compound’s population lived in the dip between two large hills. The very crest of the southern hill overlooked the busy, swarming streets of one of least friendly towns Geoff had ever met.

After trying to point out which building was the food market – giving up after five minutes of useless arguing with Gavin, who insisted that it was the _navy_ one not the _black_ one – Geoff took the four hundreds from his pocket and held them in front of Michael.

“Four hundreds,” Geoff told him. “Should get you everything on that list, plus the cart.”

“Should as in it _will_ or should as in ‘we gave our best estimate by counting our fingers’,” Michael said, but he took the money regardless.

Geoff laughed. “Should as in should. Just don’t go near _that_ building,” he said, pointing accordingly. The stupid fucking red-brick roof of the goddamn hardware store was visible from here. This time, Gavin didn’t object, shifting uncomfortably from where he hovered behind them.

“The hardware store?” Michael guessed after a long moment of peering down at the building in question.

“Yes,” Geoff said. “Alright, this is as far as I can take you.”

“Couldn’t we’ve just taken the path? I’m sure I could’ve found it on my own,” Michael said, raising an eyebrow. Understanding seemed to dawn on his face not a second later. “You wanted to show me that I would be watched. That _you’re_ watching me.”

“Every move you make,” Geoff promised, though he kept his tone light.

“Message received,” Michael said mildly. Though he was still as jumpy as a rabbit, spending a night in their presence seems to have calmed his nerves. “I’m still wondering what’s stopping me from telling the humans that you’re here, though.”

Geoff laughed. “I’m sure you are. I’m sure you also know that your ass would be mowed – by _them_ – as soon as the word ‘wolf’ came out of your mouth.”

Michael’s mouth twisted.

“And besides,” Gavin scoffed. “They don’t pick fights they can’t win.”

“They know you’re here,” Michael said, seemingly to himself. “They just don’t let you in town.”

“Not anymore they don’t,” Geoff nodded. He tilted his head towards the town. “You should probably hurry and go now, if you want to find your pack. They won’t be moving quickly if they have human members, but…” He let the end of his sentence to hang there ominously. Michael scowled at him with the faintest amount of fear in his eyes.

“Fine,” he grit out, already beginning to stumble down the hill.

“Get the right shit!” Geoff called after him, grinning.

Gavin took up Michael’s position standing next to Geoff. They watched Michael seamlessly enter the town in a way they could no longer pull off.

“You’ve sure gotten friendly,” Gavin said conversationally. Geoff could smell his unease.

Geoff smiled. “I think we’ve reached an understanding.”

“Well, that makes one of you.”

“What’s crawled up your ass?”

Gavin looked to be on the verge of a saucy reply, but the single word that came out was much more loaded. “Discomfort.”

“I have a good feeling about this,” Geoff told him.

“Because _that’s_ never come back to bite us in the ass.”

“You’re really full of vin today, Gav,” Geoff snickered before sighing. “He’ll be out of our hair in a few hours, tops.”

“Such a stupid idea,” Gavin muttered, shaking his head. “The dude’s not even remotely sneaky… or a good liar.”

“They can’t hear that,” Geoff pointed out, shrugging. “Do you have any other ideas?”

Gavin pursed his lips and Geoff knew he’d won. They’d been running low on foods that were of the breakfast persuasion for months, barely scraping by with their slayed pigs and fresh eggs. Geoff never thought he’d say it, but he was beginning to tire of bacon. He could go for some fresh greens, something they’ve been deprived of since being run out of town. Plants in the woods just… weren’t an option.  They might not have been able to die from natural toxins, but food poisoning was just as unpleasant when it hit five guys at once, with only two toilets to share between them.

Gavin seemed to be reliving the same moment. Shivering, he said, “Fine, but if this backfires I’m blaming you.”

“When do you not?”

That earned him a smile, finally.

They spent the next two hours circling the town. Well, Ray and Ryan played tag along the perimeter while Jack nipped bearishly at their heels. Gavin and Geoff sat just inside the perimeter in human form, tripping up the wolves when they lapped them and laughing when Ryan ate shit twice in the same place.

It was shockingly easy to relax. It was sunny out, a rarity for this compound, and the promise of food was enough for Geoff’s laugh to come quicker, for Gavin to grin mischievously, for Ryan to let Ray clean up the blood on his forehead with nothing but a sheepish smile. Jack, especially, was in high spirits as he tackled Gavin. He even let Gavin win, but only when they were in human form.

Geoff watched with fond eyes but stayed out of the play-fighting. More or less, he was on watch for any wayward humans wandering too far away from the town. They were allowed to go and come as they please – restrictions were reserved for the upper level compounds – but Geoff knew that the town had personal bans on going south. Or, more specifically, going where _they_ lived.

Geoff was fine with that, as long as his pack was allowed to stay. If word spread that a _human_ compound was defenseless – pack or otherwise – it would be abolished within months.

He was the first to hear the creak of wheels traveling the main path to and from the town. The grin that broke out across his face at the sight of that short, nerdy kid pushing two carts stuffed to the brim with grocery bags in an uphill battle was a shit-eating one.

Not bothering to get up and help, Geoff let Michael shoulder his way over. It wasn’t _cruel,_ just… gratifying. The little shit had been a thorn in his side for the last twenty-four hours. He could suffer through a little hard labor.

Michael collapsed to the floor, panting dramatically. His face was pinched and red, shiny with sweat. He seemed beyond words with annoyance as he glared silently at Geoff.

“You’re a fucking wolf, don’t act like that was a huge chore,” Geoff chided with a grin. He climbed to his feet and circled the carts, finger tapping his chin in thought. Damn. The haul looked good – for as much as he’d threatened betrayal this morning, Michael had done _great_. Geoff was surprised. “Damn. Good job, Michael.”

There was that little falter again. Michael seemed pathetically inexperienced with being given praise. This time, his eyes grew wide and Geoff could’ve sworn he preened a little.

An arm roped around his neck, announcing Ray’s arrival; only he was short enough to drag Geoff down a few inches. Laughing, Geoff pushed him off, only for the brunette to fall to his knees with his arms thrown wide in a dramatic splay. He crawled forward and hugged one of the carts, sobbing into the side.

“Processed food, I’ve missed you so much!”

Michael was staring at him like he’d just witnessed something horrifying. Gavin laughed, presumably at the face because god knows Ray’s joke wasn’t funny.

“You should probably get some of that in a refrigerator,” Michael said, eyes still on Ray. “Unless you want to eat it spoiled.”

Geoff’s mind jumped back to the food poisoning incident. “No… no, we’re good with not-spoiled.” His eyes darted to meet Michael’s, glimmering with humor. “You want to push?”

Michael snorted and shook his head breathlessly. His heart was poundingstill. _Christ,_ Geoff thought, _this kid must have horrible cardio. If he was in my pack I’d start with running laps_. “No, I’m okay with taking the backseat. You can handle it from here, my dear alpha,” Michael said with grandeur and a bow.

Geoff growled at the name. _Damn right I’m the alpha._ “Why be the alpha if I can’t order my minions to do my work for me?”

On cue, two long groans were released from the bellies of two very unhappy men. Ryan and Jack were looking at each other as if to say, _he’s talking about us._ And they were totally right.

With Ryan and Jack pushing the carts, their progress was much quicker. Michael lingered awkwardly behind, obviously unsure as to how to ask his burning question.

Geoff wasn’t going to admit it, but he was feeling fairly conflicted. As the responsible leader of the pack, he should be releasing Michael from their agreement and forgetting about him. But… it bothered him. Michael shouldn’t have been left behind in the first place, not even by a strangerhood pack. Be it the weakest pack bond, there still should have been some sort of connection there.

He had no obligation to help the kid, but that didn’t explain why Geoff didn’t, in that moment, tell Michael _okay we’re done here_ and send him on his way.

He wasn’t going to lie. He was fantasizing and mulling over the idea of sabotage. Given that Michael’s ‘pack’ had already left the compound, it wouldn’t take long for them to abandon Michael completely. The idea was bittersweet, but Geoff couldn’t imagine that Michael would take to it well.

He couldn’t stop thinking, though, that there was something there. He liked the way Michael stood up to him, sent him relentless dirty looks, and even argued with him. Michael cut it close enough to _challenger_ that it simultaneously excited and irritated him. He wanted to both encourage the behavior and put Michael in his place.

Fuck. He had it bad.

Quietly berating himself, he settled for shadowing Michael’s footsteps. More than once, he pondered what Michael’s wolf form looked like. Probably shaggy and auburn, like his hair, but Geoff wondered if his coat was soft or coarse. Jack’s was a bit rougher, while Gavin’s was poofy. Ryan’s was sleek and luscious, but not particularly soft. For some reason, Geoff would place bets that it was soft.

“Geoff?” Ray asked questioningly, widening his steps to match pace with Geoff.

“Hm?”

“What’s up? Did you see something?”

Geoff frowned. “No…?”

“Your heart’s going cra –” Ray started to explain before abruptly cutting himself off. His knowing eyes skipped over to Michael’s form before they were back on Geoff’s face. Now they were sparkling. “Oh.”

Geoff grumbled, the tips of his ears reddening with frustration. _Damn you, Ray, you observant bastard_. “Is there something you wanted?” he asked bluntly.

“I think there’s something both of us want,” Ray muttered. Then, louder, “I want some goddamn take-out.”

“Huh?”

“I want some _fast food,_ the greasy, fatty, completely disgusting heaps of meat. And a soda,” Ray took a pause to groan filthily. “Oh god, I want a soda. Not that diet shit, either. I want the real deal, and I want ten gallons of it.”

Geoff laughed, and heard Gavin snort with laughter in front of them. “I’d love to see you go get ten gallons of soda from the nearest fast food restaurant, Ray, I really would, but I don’t think I could stomach seeing you eat whatever kind of fake meat they’re selling.”

“I’d get you a salad,” Ray told him.

“I’ll stick to what we have,” Geoff said.

Ray side-eyed him. “Yeah, but we don’t really have to,” he said quietly, glancing at Michael.

Geoff drilled him with a glare when he realized what Ray was getting at. “Leave me alone, Ray,” he gripped, pushing Ray away by his face.

He bounced back ridiculously fast. “It’s crossed your mind, too, then?”

“Ray, shut up,” Geoff hissed, shoving him in the shoulder a bit harder. But when he looked in front of them, he saw that Michael was engaged in a conversation with Ryan. He didn’t appear to be helping him push, however, just trading words. It made Geoff smile.

Ray huffed out a breath. “But you thought of it, too?” he pushed, albeit with less energy.

“No,” Geoff lied.

“Right, that’s why he slept over.”

“He didn’t ‘sleep over’, we’re not teenage girls,” Geoff said. “We just needed food. He provided a solution.”

Ray rolled his eyes. “You sure seem to care about his pack status,” he commented lightly.

Geoff’s face hardened. “He shouldn’t have been left alone. What kind of irresponsible pack leader does that? What kind of _wolf_ does that? It’s asinine.”

“It wasn’t really our problem,” Ray said, and Geoff fucking _knew_ he was being goaded. And yet –

“Someone in need is exactly our problem,” Geoff rumbled.

“Yeah,” Ray said coyly. “But an enemy pack’s pup isn’t someone in need.”

“He’s not a pup, and it’s not necessarily an enemy pack,” Geoff said doggedly.

“Any strangerhood pack is an enemy pack,” Ray said softly, as if Geoff didn’t know.

Alright, this conversation was beginning to piss him off. “What are you trying to say, Ray?”

Ray’s eyes cut back to Michael, who was still chatting with Ryan, surprisingly enough. And – wow, he was helping the blond push. Geoff sighed.

“I’m not saying anything, Geoff,” Ray murmured before he was melting back into step with Gavin, who was trailing behind listlessly.

Geoff glared at nothing, and everything. Damn these feelings.

He didn’t need another fucking mouth to feed, and he didn’t need another complication in his life. His packship with these five fuckers was already hard enough to juggle, especially considering it was supposed to be a _romantic_ pack, not a platonic one.

Why was Geoff’s life so convoluted?

Ray was expecting a lot if he wanted Geoff to just blurt out some invitation. Packs didn’t work that way – they were a slow burn, an eventual build up to something stronger than kinship. Out of the four types of packs, a romantic pack was the healthiest, most strong-willed. Familial packs were equally as strong, but having experienced both, Geoff would vouch wholeheartedly for romantic packs.

You didn’t just… _invite_ someone into that.

But as he watched Michael snicker at something Ryan said, swatting playfully at the blond’s hand on the cart handle, he knew he didn’t have to. The slow burn was already smoldering.

\---

“You’re a real charmer, Ryan,” Michael said as he once more began to work up a sweat. “I have no idea why the fuck I’m subjecting myself to this again.”

Ryan chuckled, pushing the cart with ease. Michael didn’t want to admit that Ryan was taking about eighty percent of the pushing out of his hands, but he couldn’t be more grateful that the blond wasn’t commenting on it.

“That’s what they all say,” Ryan joked. The asshole wasn’t out of breath like Michael was.

“What, before you kill them?” Michael said, choking on his pants. He was seriously going to blow his little facade if he couldn’t control himself.

“Before I _eat_ them,” Ryan corrected.

Michael couldn’t hold back his laugh. “Big bad wolf style?”

“I prefer to go by my stage name, Big Bad,” Ryan leered.

“I prefer to go by mine, Little Red,” Michael said without thinking. _Shut up, mouth_.

Ryan only snickered. “The ‘wolf’ part kind of turns people away.”

“And turns some on,” Michael blurted. He immediately felt like smacking himself. _Shut up, mouth!_

At first Michael was worried that had been a little too gay, but then Ryan was cackling like it had been the best joke he’d heard in a while. Jack groaned from beside them, but it was a happy sound.

“We’re almost there, right?” Michael asked quickly to change the subject. “That ice cream is probably soup by now.”

Ryan looked down at him, surprised. “I didn’t write ice cream down on the list.”

Fuck. Michael had forgotten that Ryan was the one who’d written the thing. He had to look down to make sure he hadn’t suddenly grown another lower limb, because he had just neatly inserted a third foot into his mouth. “Er – yeah, I hope you guys like chocolate. And strawberry sherbet… and Rocky Road.”

“Why did you –?”

“I want a bowl before I leave,” Michael said flatly. Ryan laughed.

“Of which one?”

“All of them,” Michael vowed, mouth watering. He glanced up at Ryan and felt his stomach drop. “I mean, you don’t mind, right?”

“Of course not,” Ryan said. “We’re loaded. We used to make a lot of money in labor work before we were outed as supernatural creatures. And it’s not like we have a lot of opportunities to spend it now.”

“What happened?” Michael asked curiously. When Ryan glanced down at him, he thought perhaps he’d overstepped a boundary. But then Ryan was sighing through his nose and speaking.

“Some little twerp in town saw Gavin shift and immediately an angry mob was formed.”

“But… you’re still here,” Michael said slowly. He just couldn’t get it. Why the hell would they stay and protect the assholes who want them dead?

“We are,” Ryan said. “It’s our home.” He paused. “I… always knew it was inevitable. That they would find out.”

“How long have you been living here, a century?” Michael said disbelievingly. Ryan gave him a funny look that told him he was asking the right questions. He shook his head. “I guess I just don’t get it,” he shrugged. “Why stick your neck out for someone for nothing in return?”

Ryan recognized it for the rhetorical question it was, instead choosing to pin him down with a penetrating stare. He seemed to be working hard to chew over his words.

“Why, indeed,” Ryan finally settled on murmuring. He seemed deep in thought as he turned back to the cart and pushed it forward a few harsh feet. Michael stumbled to keep his grip.

“To answer your earlier question, we’re almost there,” Ryan said after a few minutes of walking. Michael looked up from where he’d been zoning out staring at the oranges to see them pulling up along a more familiar road. He could see the house from here and breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank fucking Christ,” he ground out, giving the cart a vigorous shove. Ryan had no trouble keeping up. “It’s ridiculous that I’m still here. I should be halfway to the next compound by now.”

Ryan hummed noncommittally.

“Fuckers better not have left me,” Michael let slip. It didn’t seem like Ryan was listening anyway. “I’m gonna have a conniption if I have to fucking find another pack. Nothing better than putting up a fucking Craigslist ad saying _hello my name is Michael Jones and I’m alone in the woods_ – that’s a website, by the way. Craigslist. In case… in case you didn’t know.”

Ryan was quiet. Dead quiet. Michael looked up at him to see if he was glaring or spitting fire or what, but it seemed that Ryan hadn’t even heard him. His face was completely blank. Once he caught Michael looking at him, he visibly shook himself out of it and said, “Huh? You were saying – something about another pack?”

Of course that had been the one thing he’d heard. “Nevermind,” he said quickly. “Can you push a little faster? Jack’s beating us.”

They ended up beating Jack to the doorway, and then to the kitchen, and they even beat him at putting away the groceries. It was so disgustingly domestic that Michael had the urge to go kill and barbeque a small animal by the time they were finished, but then he had a bowl of half-melted ice cream in his hands and the thought of violence disappeared from his mind as he shoveled the sweet, sugary cream into his mouth.

“Christ, kid, slow down,” Geoff laughed, sitting down next to Michael with a bowl of his own. Michael inched away, but not before catching sight of the large serving of _just_ sherbet.

“That’s his fourth bowl,” Gavin said from the armchair. He was indeed cradling his own bowl, but Michael didn’t know what flavor he’d picked. It seemed that ice cream had been a popular choice. He felt proud at his guesswork.

“That’s your third,” Michael accused through a mouthful. He accidentally dribbled some of it down his chin and rushed to wipe it off. Gavin definitely saw that, dammit. “Oh, fuck you,” Michael ended up muttering into another spoonful.

Gavin actually laughed at that. Michael was surprised to find that he’d softened towards him since Michael successfully brought back food for the rest of them.

Michael was halfway through another bowl when he suddenly realized it was a _wolf_ thing. He’d brought the pack food. He’d provided food. For the pack. The pack he was now sitting in the middle of, eating said food he’d provide.

Oh, fuck.

The thought made his heart give an uncomfortable lurch. Usually only members fed the pack. He could’ve poisoned that food with letharia vulpina for all they knew. Or maybe some good ol’ fashioned rat poison. Or wolfsbane. Wolfsbane would have done the trick.

But he hadn’t poisoned the food. And they were eating the un-poisoned food without even pausing to smell it first. Even Michael’s pack double-checked what he brought to the table, lest it accidentally kill them.

Suddenly feeling slightly ill, Michael put his half-finished bowl down on the table and glanced at the clock. It was noon. If he wanted to catch his pack, now would be the time to leave. The unbidden thought popped into his head before he could smother it: _It’s not worth going after them._

Dammit, this stupid, crappy shack-of-a-house was starting to grow on him, along with the people living in it.

What was he thinking?

Biting the bullet, Michael said, “Alright, well, Geoff, I’ve fulfilled my part of the deal.”

Geoff looked him with a scrutinizing gaze. “Yeah,” he said unhelpfully.

There was an awkward silence. Gavin’s stupid spoon clinked against his bowl.

“Do you know where they went?” Geoff sighed, just as Michael was opening his mouth to speak.

“Yeah,” Michael lied. “South… you know, the way that I was _going_ yesterday before you ran my face into the dirt.”

Jack grinned roguishly. “Do you want me to apologize for that?”

“I’d appreciate it, yeah,” Michael said before smiling. “And maybe a gift basket, to really convince me that you regret your actions.”

“I said that I’ll say sorry, not that I regret throwing you like a handbag,” Jack said, but there was no heat to the words. He reached behind him to grab a can of soda from the box and tossed it to Michael, who thanked his lucky stars that he caught it.

“I’ll take this as a token of your deepest, _sincerest_ apologies,” Michael said warningly, cracking it open to take a swig. It burned in the best way all the way down his throat and fizzed in his stomach. He realized he was grinning like an idiot and went back to drinking the coke.

“What compound did they move on to?” Geoff asked, reminding Michael that he wasn’t sitting with a group of friends and hanging out. Oh. Right.

He was supposed to be leaving.

“Um, I’m not sure. But I know I can find them.”

“It hasn’t rained, so their scent trail is still there,” Ryan suggested.

“Yeah, exactly,” Michael said, wondering if they’ll be able to detect that as a lie. He had a guess as to where the pack had moved on to and he was experienced enough with forests that he could probably track them, but he would never be able to ‘catch a scent’ with his under-the-bar senses.

Geoff was making a very unpleasant expression. Michael only noticed because when he glanced up, Gavin was staring at Geoff for once rather than him. In fact, _everyone_ was staring at Geoff.

“Do you want more?” Geoff suddenly asked, pointing to Michael’s bowl. He stood up and grabbed it before Michael had time to answer. “More Rocky Road? You should try the sherbet.”

“I’m good, actually,” Michael said unsurely, glancing at Ray. Ray’s lips were so pursed that they had turned white and he looked constipated. Michael frantically raked through their conversation to see where he’d fucked up.

“At least try some of the stuff _you_ bought,” Geoff said, pulling open the fridge.

“The stuff you made me buy,” Michael reminded.

“At least try some of that.”

Michael’s eye twitched. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll –”

“Not catch them? Michael, it’s been over a day.”

Michael’s stomach twisted. “You think I can’t get to them in time?” he said a bit desperately. Geoff’s face flickered from a dark expression to a… hopeful one?

And then it clicked.

If he was a full-fledged werewolf still, his eyes would have turned red.

His voice was deadly calm. “Did you do this on purpose? Did you… did you fucking _stall_ so it would be too late for me to catch up to them?”

“Michael, you don’t understand!” Geoff exploded, slamming a cup on the counter. “You shouldn’t have to _catch up to them_ at all! They should have waited for you –”

“Just shut up, Geoff, I don’t need life lessons from you!”

“I was just trying to show you that a good pack doesn’t leave members behind.” The prick didn’t even sound sorry.

“Thanks for that, really, because the thing I wanted most right now was you rubbing your ‘perfect pack’ in my face. It’s not like I wanted to find my _own_ pack or anything,” Michael said viciously. He stood up from the couch, nearly uprooting the coffee table in the process. His hands were shaking from anger.

From _betrayal_.

“Strangers don’t make a pack!” Geoff practically yelled. His eyes were livid as they bore into Michael’s, but they were still gray. Still human.

Michael could distantly appreciate that. Geoff wasn’t trying to alpha-him into submission. He was leaving to this a good old fashioned fight.

“Yeah, well they’re all I got!” Michael yelled back. “Why are you trying to fuck with that? I don’t even know you! The first thing you did when saw you was try to punch a hole through my chest –”

“That was Jack,” Geoff refuted weakly.

“You tried to kill me,” Michael said in a barely restrained voice. It was stuck somewhere between a shout and a whisper, tight and outraged. He could feel his teeth beginning to elongate. _Fuck, fuck, calm down_ –

“We were never trying to kill you,” Ray pointed out, jumping in suddenly. He was still sitting calmly on the couch, bowl of ice cream in hand. “We said that from the start.”

Michael growled, but he couldn’t argue. They were right. Turning back to Geoff, he said, “I’m going to go find my _pack._ ”

“Of strangers,” Geoff said savagely, stepping back into the family room. He was still holding Michael’s spoon and bowl.

“ _You’re_ strangers!” Michael said, exasperated.

Geoff looked slapped. “Yes, but –”

He suddenly froze, and the bowl he’d taken from Michael slipped through his fingers. It shattered upon impact with the ground.

“What the fuck, Geoff?” Michael spat, leaping back when shards of the ceramic pottery nipped at his legs. He glared up at him, but Geoff was pale and wide-eyed, and staring unseeingly at the door.

In fact, _everyone_ had gone as still as a statue. The only sound in the room was Michael’s breathing, heavy from the argument.

His nerves had started to sing even before the front window suddenly exploded.

\---

Normally, Geoff had extreme confidence in his pack. They were calm and controlled in the most chaotic of times. Cool-headed and calm in moments of pure panic and trauma. But somehow, a single Molotov cocktail seemed to melt away their beautiful reputation.

It was probably because it exploded _right_ on top of Ray.

A shrill scream of pain was the precursor to the roar of flames coming to life. Geoff watched, utterly paralyzed, as liquid fire splattered against the wooden walls and began to spread lightning quick to the wooden ceiling and the wooden floors and – fuck, everything was _burning_.

 _Ray_ was burning.

Gavin was the quickest to act on that front; he grabbed the blanket Michael had discarded on the couch early that morning and flung it over Ray, patting down the squirming lump with frenzied hands. Geoff could smell burnt skin. Ryan jumped up to help, but Jack was up and ripping out of his clothes and turning – right there, in the middle of the room – and then Ray was shifting too, because they always healed faster in their wolf forms.

The only two people who hadn’t moved an inch were Michael and Geoff.

Fire was crawling along the walls and engulfing the armchair. The soft, worn fabric it was made of mistakenly welcomed it, and the entire thing was bright orange and yellow flames within seconds. Heat bellowed out in thick, suffocating waves, and Michael instantly was bent double coughing.

“Get out!” Geoff yelled. “The backdoor! Go through the back!”

Jack’s gigantic wolf form was doing a good job of shepherding a clearly disorientated and wounded Ray into a straight line for the backdoor. Ryan shifted as well and bounded past Geoff to hold the door open. Fire was already spreading down the hall and eating through the ceiling. The house was beginning to creak and groan, the wooden planks trembling under Geoff’s shoes.

In a last moment thought, Geoff grabbed Jack, Ray, and Ryan’s clothes. A black curl of dread in his stomach told him that he already lost the house – it was beyond saving. The moment the Molotov exploded, the structure hadn’t stood a chance. But it would be better if three of them didn’t have to roam around buck nude.

He looked up and Michael hadn’t moved.

“Go, go!” Geoff roared, a large portion of his wolf pouring into his voice. It boomed with authority, causing Michael to jump out of his skin and scramble to obey. Gavin shifted as well and Geoff picked up his clothes as the wolf darted past him. He knew they would move faster as wolves, and Gavin trusted him to be safe. But Michael still hadn’t taken it all in yet, still staring around in horror.

“Shift, Michael!” Geoff ordered, getting behind the redhead and pushing him towards the backdoor. Nothing above their head was intact anymore, just a fiery inferno where swirling flames loomed, lashing out angrily. With danger so close, Geoff felt the budding of his wolf begin to affect his body. He clawed his way down the hallway, following Michael, and despite knowing the house was burning into ruins, he couldn’t help but feel bad about leaving deep gouges in the wood.

Geoff shoved him hard in the shoulder when he realized Michael hadn’t shifted. “Michael, fucking shift!”

Michael stumbled towards the exit, dodging sharply to the left when the wall collapsed outwards, a billowing wall of fire ballooning out and barely singing the redhead before it receded. “I – I can’t!”

They didn’t have time to have a conversation about it. The oxygen was quickly being absorbed by the fire and it was getting too hot. Geoff could feel his skin beginning to burn.

He shoved Michael _hard_ to get him moving. “Just go!”

The ceiling fell out in front of Michael, but fucking finally he was beginning to realize that they were going to get trapped in there if they didn’t _move now._ Michael climbed over it without hesitating, carefully placing his hands in strategic places to avoid the small buds of flames decorating the support beam, and Geoff followed at a much quicker pace. He wasn’t so delicate to climb over, uncaringly burning the palms of his hands. It healed almost immediately, anyway.

They were to the door when the very door frame itself collapsed. A large slab of wood struck Michael in the shoulder and Geoff could hear the impact from where he stood. Michael cried out and fell backwards, effectively pinned to the floor. Geoff skidded to a stop before he ran him over.

Alpha strength was not something you wanted to fuck with when that alpha was motivated. Geoff gripped the foot-thick beam of wood, claws burrowing in and fingers denting the surface. He shouldered under it, knocking into Michael in the process. Pushing upwards, he felt the entire house around them shudder before it finally came loose from the rubble around it. Michael rolled out accordingly, but he clutched at his shoulder as if he’d just been shot with wolfsbane. A trickle of blood was oozing from a cut above his eyebrow.

A strange surge of irrational fear washed over him, and for reasons he couldn’t name Geoff found himself gripping Michael’s face and turning it upwards. His eyes locked onto the cut that was sluggishly leaking.

Still bleeding.

Not _healing._

And just like that, it clicked.

“You’re… _human?_ ”

Michael looked at him with wide, terrified eyes. It was confirmation enough.

Geoff practically tore his way through the caved-in entry way, shards of wood digging into his skin as he went. He dragged Michael out with him. Behind him, the house seemed to be on the verge of complete disintegration.

Four wolves were pacing worriedly just feet away. Too close, they were too close, so Geoff growled at them until they backed further away, to a safer distance. Ray was still limping and, fuck, there were patches of fur that had yet to regrow, but Jack was glued to his side and circling protectively. He was in good hands.

Geoff grabbed the back of Michael’s neck and physically hauled him down the back porch steps and across the yard, until they were almost backed up to the wheat fields. A high whine was piercing the air that Geoff recognized as Ray, and his heartstrings pulled taunt.

Michael yanked out from under his hand, but Geoff barely noticed. The yard was clear of fire, but all six of them had the perfect view of the house, their fucking _home,_ go up in flames.

“What… what the hell j-just–” Michael coughed, hunched over and unable to finish.

Geoff had to speak through clenched teeth. “They… must have figured out that you were with us. Smelled us on you or seen us…”

Michael’s mouth hung open, cheeks flushed from adrenaline. “I – I’m –”

Geoff cleared his throat. _Don’t fucking cry. It was just a house. The important thing is that the pack is alive. You can rebuild a house. You can’t rebuild a pack again._ “Don’t apologize,” he finally managed to rasp out. “It was a timebomb. They were… bound to do something like this eventually.”

He heard a different person whine from behind him. A wet nose nuzzled up to his hand and he looked down to see a pair of hazel, pain-filled eyes staring up at him. Geoff’s heart clenched. “I know, Gav,” he whispered before having to cover his nose up from the intense smell of burning wood.

 _Fuck, this hurts. Remind me never to attach to personal belongings again._ Geoff shook his head ruefully. “We were never welcomed here.”

The flames continued to climb the two story building until the wood was no longer visible. Geoff could hear the various fabrics burning – the beds, the curtains, the fuzzy toilet cover in the upstairs bathroom that was shaped like a dick. He could hear the shampoos and body washes boiling, the cans of beans and carrots and tomatoes they’d just bought exploding in the pantry.

Everything. Everything was being destroyed, before his very eyes.

“We were never welcomed here at all,” Geoff said darkly, watching the flames consume his house entirely before the structure completely collapsed into a skeleton of black-charred metal and rubble.

\---

Whoever had thrown the Molotov had brought a mob with him, a very, very _angry_ mob, but once the house caved in, they dispersed like moths back to the safety in numbers. Geoff after glared at their retreating figures and Michael thought two of the other wolves might have been glaring, too, but he couldn’t be sure. The smoke was obscuring everything, making it hard to see and breathe.

Geoff wordlessly corralled them into the wheat field, including Michael, which was strange. Any moment, he was prepared to be pulled to the side and told to go to town. Or killed. But Michael didn’t think they’d kill him as a pack ritual, not anymore. They were rude as hell and a little bossy at times, but Michael could recognize kind souls when he saw them.

But Geoff _didn’t_ separate him from his pack, instead gently guiding him through a break in the thick plants. It was still daylight out, but the shadows made Michael paranoid. A lick of flame kept teasing him from the very edge of his peripheral vision, but when he turned there was nothing but wheat plants.

God, he hated fire.

The wolves walked in front of him while Geoff followed close behind, practically breathing over his shoulder. Ryan led the way, which was odd to Michael because Jack was the biggest wolf here. He felt like the strongest should be leading them in the time of battle, but glancing over his shoulder, he was fairly sure the strongest _was_ leading them.

There were no words spoken. Michael was concerned that the wolves were still, well, _wolves,_ but Geoff didn’t seem worried any longer. He just looked angry and resigned. Not defeated, just… really tired.

Michael’s heart ached for him.

“I’m sorry about your house,” he finally managed to say in something louder than a whisper. Geoff looked surprised he said something, and even more surprised when Michael fell back to walk next to him.

“I said not to apologize,” he said gruffly, running a soot-blackened hand through his soot-covered hair. Both of them looked like they’d just exited left stage of a coal mine, and Michael felt sticky in some very unfortunate places. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is partly,” Michael argued. “I was thinking about what could’ve tipped them off, and I realized that I was wearing clothes that probably smelled like you.” _Like dog,_ went unspoken.

“I don’t get it,” Geoff said shaking his head and taking a second to gather his thoughts. He sounded _pissed._ Michael waited patiently for the rant about the fire, or maybe the humans, but then –

“Why didn’t you tell us you were human?”

Michael blinked. “I…” he said, hesitating. Well, if they wanted to kill him for a ritual, Geoff would’ve probably started already. Shrugging, Michael said, “I didn’t want to be used as a human sacrifice.” _Again_.

Oddly enough, Geoff turned bright red. “Oh. _Oh._ But, uh… okay. We don’t – we don’t do that.”

Michael studied him curiously. “Don’t do… rituals?” he said unsurely.

“No.” Geoff said firmly.

That was surprising to hear. Killing – innocents and the like – made packs closer, strengthening the bonds between members. It was rare to find a platonic or strangerhood pack notkilling people. The doubt must’ve shown on his face.

“We don’t,” Geoff insisted irritably.

“Okay,” Michael said, unconvinced. His eyes flitted to the wolves creeping through the brush in front of them. They were effortlessly creating a path for the two-legged ones behind them, knowing without Geoff having to ask. They were good together, worked like a well-oiled pack should. They could read each other’s thoughts communicated through their body language, just like animals. There had to be some killing going on backstage.

“We _don’t_ ,” Geoff said in a high voice. “Why would we be protecting the town if we wanted to kill everyone in it?”

“I’ve never actually seen you protecting anyone,” Michael said. “In fact, so far my theory actually makes the most sense.”

“Your theory?”

“My theory of you five actually terrorizing the town,” Michael said, but even as he said the words he knew it didn’t hold any truth. These morons terrorizing the town? He’d first see them eating puppies from a young girl’s backyard. He went with it anyway to lighten the depressing atmosphere. “It explains a lot, you have to admit, if you’ve been periodically taking humans to ritualize for pack health.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Geoff scoffed. “We’re not doing that, Michael.”

“You like almost a mile from the nearest building. They know you’re wolves and avoid the hell out of you. You _scare_ them, and they burn down your house to try and get rid of you!” Michael said excitedly, before cringing. “Sorry, that was too soon.”

“You think?” Geoff said, but he didn’t seem angry. “Thirty minutes is a little high of an expectation, even for us.”

“If you set your mind to it,” Michael said half-heartedly. Teasing the ever-living hell out of a man who’d just lost all of his belongings didn’t exactly put Michael on the top of Santa’s Nice List.

There was a long silence.

“So… in the woods,” Geoff started, frowning. “Your wrist healed, like how we heal. And you had wolf’s teeth. Did you take…?”

“A drug? Yeah,” Michael admitted. He left out the part about the wolf’s teeth not being a result of the drug.

Geoff seemed lost in thought when Michael glanced up at him. The older man’s brow was heavily furrowed and a slight flush was staining his cheeks. It hadn’t been there earlier.

“I don’t remember the name,” Michael continued. “Didn’t work very well. Like, at all. Fucking thing was only good for minor injuries, like rugburn. Or paper cuts.”

“You shouldn’t use it again,” Geoff suggested weakly, as if unsure if he had authority.

Michael surprised himself by immediately saying, “I won’t.”

It seemed to please Geoff somewhat; he untensed and let out a breath he’d been holding. “So… human, eh?”

“This is also what I was trying to avoid.”

“What?” Geoff said defensively.

“Don’t suddenly start fucking talking to me like I’m a different species.”

“But you ar–”

“Like I’m a species _below you._ ”

Geoff blew out a frustrated sigh. “You have a point,” he said begrudgingly.

“A point,” Michael repeated. “Not even a _good_ point. Just a point.”

Geoff smiled, but it was strained. “Exactly.”

“I’m not sure when it went from me trying to gouge your eyes out in the wood to me trying to have a friendly conversation with you in a wheat field, but I don’t think I like the change,” Michael said.

“I do,” Geoff said earnestly. The sincerity quieted Michael instantly. “And you aren’t below us.”

“Just weaker,” Michael said bitterly.

“Physically, maybe,” Geoff allowed before adopting a frighteningly serious expression. Was this it? Geoff cleared his throat. “A few things have changed since our deal,” he started solemnly.

_Yup, here it comes._

“And it’s basically null-void now. You can leave, if you want. I won’t hold you accountable for what happened. I was stupid to think that it would work in the first place.”

Michael opened his mouth to reply, but his brain stumbled over one part. _If you want._ If he wanted to leave.

 _Did_ he want to leave?

Michael thought about doing it. Just… walking away. Running through the woods with a sore throat and a cold chest. Trying to find the pack that didn’t give a shit about him, the pack that had abandoned him when there had been _plenty_ of fucking time to go back for him. Never seeing Geoff again, never glaring at Gavin or smiling shyly at Ray. His chest seized up.

Before he realized it, he’d drawn up to a stop. Four pairs of eyes were staring at him through the faces of wolves. Michael could help but feel put on the spot, especially with how Geoff was boring holes into his head using only his eyes.

He floundered for a long few moments, emotion thickening his words. “Well, what’s the point? My pack isn’t even…” he trailed off, but they all knew the end to that sentence and averted their eyes for his sake.

He swallowed, making a decision. _Don’t make a fool out of yourself, you fucking stupid idiot,_ he mentally berated himself and he clinched off the tears. Meeting Geoff’s eyes dead-on, Michael deadpanned, “I still don’t believe you don’t commit ritualized murder.”

Geoff snorted before breaking out into mad cackling, though there was a rather sharp edge to his voice. Two of the four wolves made an off huffing wheeze that Michael vaguely recognized to be laughter, while the other two had the same kind of latent panic in their eyes. They shifted nervously and looked at Geoff.

In that moment, Michael couldn’t have been more thankful for Geoff’s discretion. There were no awkward questions like _so is that a yes_ or _are you part of the pack now_ , and for that Michael was relieved.

A hand settling on his shoulder made him jump. Gavin was peering at him with nothing short of suspicion. He was utterly naked.

He leaned forward and took a big, nasally sniff.

Michael flushed and kept his eyes above the belt. “What the fuck are you –”

“You’re human?” Gavin said doubtfully.

Michael stared at him. “What gave me away, the fucking still-bleeding skin or the overpowering urge to maim you might suddenly be experiencing?”

But Gavin was actually looking marginally happier. “I knew it!”

Michael gaped at him. “You…”

“I told you that you stank of human blood and you didn’t bat an eyelash. No wolf with an injured pack member, especially a human one, would be so calm – they’d’ve been _dying_ to take a shower and wash off that smell. So, either you couldn’t smell it or… you were a shitty pack member.” Gavin paused. “Both of those were possible.”

Michael bared his teeth at him in what could scantily be considered a smile. “Why don’t you put some goddamn clothes on before your testicles take shelter in your abdomen,” he suggested politely through gritted teeth. He didn’t mention that the human blood smell had been _him_ , that he’d been the sole human pack member.

Gavin was remarkably comfortable being as bare as the day he was born, grinning largely and making an obscene gesture with his hands. “Doesn’t smell like you hate it.”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “Wolves can’t smell disgust. Only fear.” He hoped.

“It’s not disgust I’m currently getting a whiff of,” Gavin cooed, eyes darting down suggestively.

Michael growled and pushed Gavin in the chest, causing him to stumble back slightly.

Michael’s eyes widened. Oh, fuck. Oh, _fuck_. _I just pushed a wolf. A pissed off wolf who’s home just burned down. And I just pushed him in the_ chest _in a very confrontational way, I’m going to die, I’m going to get my throat ripped out_ –

Gavin laughed. Gavin _laughed._

It was surprisingly squeaky and gasping. He was rubbing his chest as if Michael had bruised him, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He seemed no less ashamed of his nudity as he stepped back to give Michael some space.

“A human,” Gavin said, and if Michael didn’t know him better, he’s say Gavin sounded _fond_. “You’re strong for a human.”

“Gee, thanks,” Michael said, only half-heated. He was still trying to calm his racing heart. “Because it’s still a compliment when you add ‘for a’ at the end of it.”

“It was,” Gavin said, and fucking _finally_ Geoff was handing him his clothes. Gavin took them and then took his sweet ass time slipping them on.

Jack and Ryan were a bit more considerate, both men turning away to dress, and when Jack once again faced them, his cheeks were a faint pink. It was good to know Michael wasn’t the only one embarrassed.

“Uh –” Michael started because wow, this suddenly was _horribly awkward_. They were all staring at him as if he’d made a grab for their naked dicks. Even Geoff was staring at him with a fair amount of awe. “So…”

Geoff broke free of his trance and shook his head. “There’s a small bunker ten miles into the woods. We’re going the opposite direction right now, so we’re going to have to circle around, but avoid the house and the main trail.”

“A bunker?” Michael parroted. “In the _same compound_ that just burned your house down? Why are you _staying_ here?”

Geoff didn’t react to his outraged voice. He seemed surprisingly laid back, in fact, smiling lazily and shrugging. “I guess we’re just that selfless.”

Michael scoffed, but he couldn’t explain the small swoop sensation in his stomach at the words. He didn’t want them to be selfless – selfless gets you killed.

But he couldn’t voice those particular worries, so he went with, “Ten miles? I’ve been up since seven this morning and you expect me to walk ten miles?”

Geoff glanced up at the sky. “No,” he said, and Michael felt a wave of relief. It came crashing down on him not three seconds later. “I expect you to run it.”

“ _What_? Geoff… have you looked at me? I have some squish, okay? I hid it well by, you know, _not being naked in front of someone I just met_ , but I definitely am not ripped or built for any endurance running,” Michael, unable to keep the anxiety from his voice. He could see Ryan confusedly mouthing the word squish while Geoff laughed.

“I have looked at you,” Geoff said and _okay, brain, you know that’s not what he meant_. “You don’t have much squish.”

“My skin is squish,” Michael muttered. He was partially cut off by a snicker.

“It’s not ten miles,” Ray said. “It’s actually more like seventeen and a half, what with the circle and everything. Go, math.”

Michael glared at him. He was fairly sure that wasn’t correct math. “Thanks, Ray, I really didn’t need to fucking know that. I could’ve gone without knowing that until we were actually at the bunker. Then it would have only felt like two miles.”

“You spent all of yesterday sprinting your ass off in the woods,” Ray pointed out. “You can make a measly seventeen miles.”

“Seventeen and a half, and yesterday I had a full stomach when I started and I’d gotten at least ten hours of sleep the night before,” Michael said morosely. He looked at Geoff pleadingly. “Why the hell do I have to _run_ it?”

“The sun is setting and there’s no way in hell we’re going to be stumbling around with a human in the woods after dark.”

Michael opened his mouth to protest, to say that he wasn’t a human, not by a long shot, but he thought better of it and snapped it closed with an audible crack. That was information that definitely did to be shared yet, if only for the sole reason of… Michael just didn’t want to tell the story. It had been an emotional day, alright?

“Unless you want to be carried,” Gavin suggested, cocking a hip and obviously expecting Michael to argue.

Which he did, vehemently, and that was why for the next few hours he was stuck in a vicious race between five very _competitive_ wolves.

\---

Surprising absolutely no one, both Michael and Gavin were out like lights the moment they got into the bunker. Gavin didn’t even make it to the cot, splayed out pitifully by the door and making Jack carry him the rest of the way.

The bunker wasn’t much. They’d have to find a new home, but the cramped place underground would work.

Ryan, who’d lived in this town longer than Geoff had known of its existence, told them the bunker had been built thousands of years ago, when the compounds didn’t exist. It showed rather obviously in the lack of plumbing, electricity, and modern furniture. Ryan had promised that the food in the pantry wasn’t hundreds of years old. Geoff did not completely trust that.

Geoff hadn’t missed the way Michael had subtly pulled his cot away a few feet until he was up against the wall, but he was thrilled to see that Michael was voluntarily sleeping in their presence. It couldn’t have been easy. Trust didn’t suddenly ignite between two people in a matter of hours.

Geoff himself was nearing exhaustion. After all three lads were passed out and snoring on their respective cots, Geoff laid down and stared at the metal ceiling. Of the metal cube.

He never thought he’d miss home so much.

Despite being tired enough to need a carriage for all the bags under his eyes, Geoff fell into a fairly restless sleep. The cot was lumpy and ten degrees too hot, resulting in hours of tossing and turning. Jack’s snoring was nothing to laugh at, and Ray kept making soft noises in his sleep, which normally would have been cute but right now made Geoff want to grab the nearest pillow and smother him with it.

He dozed off around the early morning hours and woke up around eight to someone falling out of their cot. It made the wall’s shudder and groan. Without looking, Geoff knew it had been Gavin.

No one seemed to want to ask the question of _what now?_ as they sluggishly dressed in the same clothes they’d had last night. Michael’s shoulder was bruised to high hell, but with no broken bones and no obvious bleeds, Geoff figured they had a pass to make fun of him.

Reality was… it wasn’t funny. He wasn’t _healing_. It was more than upsetting.

But if Geoff was going to lead a pack with a human member, then he was going to have to accept that Michael’s vulnerability came with it.

There was another bullet he still needed to bite, however.

“So about those ritual killings,” he said casually to Michael while they were climbing the ladder. He could hear Michael’s heart jump when he missed a step from shock.

“If you’re about to drop the fucking bombshell that I actually _am_ going to be killed, can you at least wait until we’re out of a small, enclosed, _underground_ space so I can have enough oxygen to properly freak?” Michael managed to snap, continuing up the ladder at a much quicker pace.

Geoff laughed and nodded, even though he knew Michael couldn’t see it. “Maybe that was my plan. Maybe I need my human sacrifice to be suffocated before the ceremony.”

Michael made a harsh noise in the back of his throat, but he only spoke after a long pause. He had slowed down on the ladder. “You don’t know the first thing about how that works, do you? Alright, I believe you. No pack killings have been happening anywhere near you, not the fucking ritualistic ones, at least.”

Geoff frowned. Michael sounded way too relieved. And surprised.

“You didn’t actually think we killed people,” he said disbelievingly.

“You’re a strong pack,” was Michael’s only answer before he was pushing himself up from the ladder and onto the forest floor. Geoff followed with a bit more grace.

 _You’re a strong pack._ They were, but for a different reason than Michael was assuming.

“Right, about that,” Geoff said awkwardly, glancing around. He could hear the heartbeats of four very curious souls sitting _just_ inside hearing range. Deep in his chest, Geoff rumbled warningly and felt them spread out a few yards in sheepish return, far enough to not be able to overhear. Fuckers were supposed to be hunting. Those canned beans weren’t going to last forever.

Michael eyes cut to him. He looked anxious, but he waited patiently.

“Killing… wouldn’t make our pack stronger,” Geoff said, listening to Michael’s heartbeat. He couldn’t tell if he was relieved or horrified at the spike in the steady _lub-dub_.

To his surprise, Michael’s face flushed a brilliant red. Even the tips of his ears were pink. The angry expression he was wearing was canceled out by the blush and the exhilaration that began to seep from his pores. Geoff’s own pulse jumped in reply.

“R-Rom–” Michael stuttered, not able to complete the word. He seemed on the edge of a complete meltdown. “You didn’t think that was worth fucking _mentioning_?”

“It’s complicated – and keep your voice down!” Geoff shushed. “We’re sort of scrambling to pick up the pieces, it’d be a good idea if we didn’t try and attract any wayward monsters.”

Michael rolled his eyes at the wording, but lowered his volume. “Just because it’s complicated doesn’t mean it’s unsolvable. What kind of freak show are you running, Geoff?”

Fair question. A little _mean,_ but fair. “You know what it means, then.”

“You’re either familial or romantic,” Michael said. “And… no offense but none of you look related.”

“None taken,” Geoff said, shivering.

“So… what? Do they not know how packs work?” Michael asked incredulously. “Did you never bother to tell them that unless they want to start killing humans and causing some serious bloodshed, they have to be _romantic_? With each other?”

“It’s a long story, but basically… only Jack and Ryan know.”

“Oh my god,” Michael said. He craned his neck back to look at the sky, as if asking God to aid him in chewing out the man in front of him. No such deity followed through. “So, what now? You’re just going to pretend to be platonic while actually being more than that? The bonds between you will wither if you–”

“I realize I’ve gotten myself into a shitty situation, I don’t need you to spell it out for me,” Geoff hissed.

“Oh my fucking god, and here I was thinking I’d actually found a competent leader!” Michael said, and ouch, that stung. Geoff was competent in literally every other category, thank you _very_ much.

“Stop yelling, and I’m very competent! It’s a long story. We all have… difficult pasts. After problems with their family, both Ray and Gavin were placed in a boy’s home at young ages. They didn’t – they never learned–”

“I hate you so much right now, Geoff,” Michael told him, but there was no heat to his words. He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking tired. “You have to tell them.”

“I know,” Geoff whispered.

“No, you need to… _really_ tell them,” Michael said, and only he could be annoyingly pushy in such a soft tone. “I mean, if it works. The romantic bit. If that doesn’t work, then you might want to look into the homeless people menu down by the depot.”

“It works,” Geoff said automatically. Heat bloomed in Michael’s cheeks again, though Geoff wasn’t sure why. “Me, Jack, and Ryan… yeah. It works.” He grinned at the faint look Michael was quickly adopting.

“Okay,” he said weakly. He tried to physically shake himself out of it, cringing when it pulled at the sore muscles of his shoulder. “Okay. That is really rare. I’m not gonna lie, I’m fucking in awe right now.”

Geoff laughed. “I wish it wasn’t so rare. Maybe then I’d actually have a fucking clue of what I was doing.”

Michael pursed his lips in thoughtful sympathy. “Well… they love you,” he said unexpectedly. “I mean, it works that way. The romantic way. I thought something between you and Jack maybe? But – yeah. I think the only thing you should worry about is Gavin coldcocking you when you finally tell him that he could’ve been getting laid all these years.”

Geoff laughed, unshaken by Michael’s crudeness. He definitely had a point.

“They’re probably listening in,” Michael suddenly said, worried as if the thought had just come to him. He looked around in paranoia.

Geoff allowed his hearing to stretch out. Jack was listening, and Geoff suspected Ryan was as well, but Gavin and Ray were way too far to catch a lick of what had been said. “No, we’re good.”

Michael nodded, relieved. Geoff hesitated.

“Michael… what I offered in the wheatfield…” Michael’s heart rate catapulted, like Geoff had just pulled a knife on him. “You clearly know how packs work. You… you know, then, that what I offered will involve that as well.”

He mentally cursed. _Great wording, Geoff, I’m sure that came across just as suave and confident as it did in your head._

But Michael’s heart rate was declining, rapidly like he’d been expecting some sort of death sentence and been declared innocent instead. “Oh,” he said breathily. “Well, uh, you know… I think it, uh, works. You know, _works_.”

 _Damn, you still got it, Geoff._ He grinned, giddy and nervous and _unbelievably_ excited. “Speaking for everyone, it’s mutual.”

“Shouldn’t you be saying something like ‘I can’t speak for them but’?” Michael said.

Geoff sent a flat look his way. “Michael. Trust me, I know. It’s mutual.”

The beauty of it was that it was _completely_ mutual. Michael was cute – that baby face was ten shades of adorable, but his eyes held a smoky haze that made him seem ten years older. And _hot._ It made Geoff’s mind rebel and imagine some perverted fantasies, but it also caused Gavin, who’d initially taken to him the least, to emit strong waves of frustrated arousal. Geoff was smart enough to know when there was potential.

And there was definitely potential.

“Oh,” Michael said. Geoff grinned. Oh yeah, he looked pleased, even if he was trying to hide it by nodding nonchalantly. Then he frowned. “Uh, but what am I supposed to say to Ryan and Jack?”

Geoff bit back a peel of laughter. Ryan and Jack were listening in, their heartbeats closer than they had been before. He could smell their satisfaction at how easily this conversation was going, and Geoff couldn’t agree more.

“Just pretend this conversation never happened,” Geoff replied, shrugging. “I’ll take care of Ray and Gavin.”

Michael laughed. “Take care of them?” he said, waggling his eyebrows lewdly.

Geoff rolled his eyes and lightly shoved Michael’s shoulder. Michael’s immediate reaction was to let out a surprisingly high yelp of pain. “Oh, shit, sorry. Uh,” he said, looking down to Michael’s bruised shoulder. They looked at each other. “This might take some getting used to.”

“It’ll fade in a few days,” Michael said quickly, like a few _days_ was reasonable. Bruises healed in _seconds_. Broken bones healed in hours.

Well, they were supposed to.

“Right,” Geoff said worriedly, trying to stomp down his rising irrationality as Michael walked away to find firewood. He couldn’t mother-hen his pack when there was nothing to fix. If this was how having a human in the pack felt like, how the _fuck_ did those other packs deal with it? Geoff already felt like shadowing Michael’s every move to make sure he didn’t accidentally impale himself on a stick or bash his head on a rock or, fuck, find a stray wolf lingering in the woods like they so often did.

“How the hell does a human make us stronger,” Geoff muttered to himself, untrusting of those old wives’ tales.

“With time,” a sly voice said. Geoff wasn’t surprised he’d been snuck up on, but he was surprised to find that it was Ray who’d done it. He was wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Shouldn’t you be finding fresh food?” Geoff said grumpily.

“Jack and Ryan are taking down a deer a mile west from here,” Ray waved off. His eyes were like granite. “You’re not… _worried_ about this, are you?”

“Can you blame me?”

Ray sighed. “Your… family from before,” he said hesitatingly, breath catching when Geoff visibly stiffened. They didn’t talk about their ‘before times’, and certainly not lost loved ones. But Ray bravely kept going. “They weren’t human.”

“No.”

“My dad was human,” Ray said, heart jack-hammering in his chest. Geoff ached to take a step forward, to put a stop to this painful conversation. But he just watched as Ray selflessly cut open old scars. “They’re not as weak as they look. I mean, he was strong enough to throw me out of the house.” Ray’s weak laugh did nothing to soothe the blunt stab of emotion that had caked the words. “They’re not as resilient, physically. But… they’re stubborn.”

Geoff took a long moment to allow the words proper sinkage. A thought occurred to him. “You know, don’t you. About the pack.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ray said, heart skipping a beat with the lie. He smirked before casting a quick glance at their surroundings and leaned forward to whisper, “I saw you kiss Jack a few months ago.”

“And you didn’t say anythi–”

“It didn’t feel like the right time,” Ray confessed. “This does. Feel right, I mean.”

Geoff looked away, swallowing. He focused his hearing to zone in on his beloved members of his pack. It was easy to find and identify them. Michael’s tended to beat faster than the rest, an early discovered enigma now explained, but it was calm and serene now. He’d been found and engaged in a play-fight by Gavin, while Jack and Ryan were circling a buck in a clearing. Ray was standing next to him, staring off into thought but still waiting for a reply. All heartbeats were steady, if not slightly elevated from the excitement. But there was one thing Geoff hadn’t taken the time to notice. All hearts were beating in perfect synchrony. He sighed.

“I hope so.”

**Author's Note:**

> whew! thanks for reading, guys, and expect more of this verse for sure. things progress in future oho~


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